With Shards of Broken Glass
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marysuevirusTitle: With Shards of Broken Glass
Chapter Four: Fogged
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
"To what do I owe the pleasure of this meeting?" Bert Vaughn asked with a broad smile on his face. The man behind Animators, Inc. gave the appearance of being jovial and easy going. But it was merely a front. There was no hiding the shrewd look in the man's eyes or the subtle hum of anticipation that kept his muscles tense beneath his expensive suit. It was obvious he thought he'd just been given a gift from the heavens. That thought would last only a few more moments, though. Because he was not going to take pleasure in this visit, nor would he like the reason for it. "It isn't often that the Master of the City comes to Animators, Inc. And even less often that he comes to see me personally. How can I help you, Jean-Claude?"
Jean-Claude sighed, though it was not a sound of remorse. More one of distaste. It was time to burst the man's bubble. Thoroughly. And perhaps painfully. "I am here to inform you that Aedan will be indisposed. Indefinitely. I do not see her returning to work for at least a week. Perhaps even longer."
Bert blinked, as if he didn't fully understand what he'd just heard. His smile did not fade, but it did wilt a bit at the corners. That suggested to Jean-Claude that the man planned on trying to convince him to reconsider the decision. Or convince Aedan to reconsider the decision. "Excuse me? I don't believe I heard you correctly." The way his words were spoken was a subtle challenge. Jean-Claude offered a smile of his own, one that might have held just a bit of fang in it.
"Please. Let us not play these games. You heard me correctly. Aedan will not be in to work this week. Perhaps not even next week." He made sure his tone was final and touched with both power and authority.
"I don't think that's your decision to make," the man said. He wasn't anxious yet, but there was a hint of it building in his voice. His statement was an attempt to work around the situation.
"Of course it is," Jean-Claude assured him. He might have been a little smug about it. "It is in my best interests to ensure that Aedan is well rested and healthy. And, right now, she is neither well rested, nor is she healthy. She is exhausted and at the very end of her ability to function. That exhaustion affects all around her. Including myself. Starting tonight, she is taking a break so that she may rest up."
"I'd like to hear this from her personally," Bert said, hand reaching for his phone. Jean-Claude gave a slight incline of his head, letting the man know he was more than welcome to call Aedan's cell. What little he knew of Bert Vaughn told him to expect nothing less. He watched, silent, as Bert Vaughn tapped the numbered keys on the phone's base. He made sure to put the call on speaker, as if he was certain Aedan would be more inclined to his way of thinking. The other line rang twice before the call connected.
"Aedan Kinkade's phone," a masculine voice said. Jean-Claude saw Bert pause in confusion a moment. Apparently he hadn't expected someone else to answer. Did the fool honestly think Jean-Claude would come to him personally and tell falsehoods where Aedan's health was concerned? Did the fool honestly think Aedan would allow him to do something like that? If he did, he knew so very little about Aedan.
"Let me speak with Aedan," he finally said, gathering his wits around him
"I'm afraid I can't do that. Aedan is sleeping," the voice returned without inflection.
"Then wake her up. Tell her its Bert Vaughn calling," the man responded.
"Even if I wanted to wake her up, which I don't, I can't. She took some sleeping tablets before going to bed. It'll be at least eight hours before she wakes up and I highly doubt she'll be coherent enough for a phone call when she does." There was a pause from the other end, during which time Bert Vaughn stared at his phone in disbelief. "I can take a message if you like. I can't guarantee that she'll call you back in a timely manner. But I'm more than willing to take a message."
Perhaps it was the almost jovial tone the voice had at the end that set him off. Perhaps it was simply being denied that which he wanted. Either way, the smile on the man's face finally died and Bert Vaughn got angry. "Who the hell is this? What gives you the right to run roughshod over Aedan's life?" he demanded into the phone.
"My name, Mister Vaughn, is Ted Forrester. No doubt you've heard of me. I knew Anita," Edward answered, tone gone cold and clinical. Maybe Bert Vaughn knew who he was. Maybe he didn't. There was little chance to see it on the man's face. And, either way, it was irrelevant because Edward continued. This time, his tone was colder. Less clinical. More frightening. "And I have the right to run roughshod over Aedan's life, as you put it, because I'm blood. I am, in fact, the only living family she has. I do not like to see her so tired and run down. She needs sleep. As I'm sure her boyfriend has already told you." That sentence saw Vaughn's eyes lifting to stare at Jean-Claude. "Now. Did you want me to give her a message?"
"No. No message," Bert Vaughn said, his finger pressing the button to end the call. He continued to stare at Jean-Claude, as if uncertain how to handle this new information. It had obviously been more than his brain was capable of handling to find out that not only did Aedan have blood family willing to look out for her, but that she was also dating the Master of the City.
"As you can see, my interest in Aedan's well being is as much personal as it is professional," Jean-Claude began. "Not only is she a vitally important member of the preternatural community, she is my personal companion and I have a very vested interest in her continuing good health."
Bert Vaughn stared at him a few moments, his expression empty. But Jean-Claude had no doubt that the man's nimble brain was turning as he tried to find a tactic that would benefit him. "What about the people who are booked for appointments to see Aedan? They expect to meet with Anita Blake's protégé, you know."
"They will be disappointed," Jean-Claude replied, letting a touch of his anger fill his words. "Aedan is not a show dog. She does not perform on command. And she is not the next Anita Blake. Selling her to your clientele as such is a disservice to Aedan, as she is her own person, and to Anita's memory. She can never be replaced, and trying to convince your clients that Aedan is nothing more than a copy of Anita Blake is a bad business model."
"And you're not replacing Anita with Aedan?" the man asked, tone sly and accusatory. And perhaps, under it all, touched with desperation.
Jean-Claude let his anger come fully to the surface, let the man across the desk see it in his eyes and in his frown. Vaughn didn't pull back in his chair, but it was a close thing. "I am well aware of how my relationship with Aedan appears as to those who do not know us. I am also well aware of the fact that Aedan is no more Anita Blake than you or I. I value Aedan's companionship for who she is as a person. Not for who she could possibly be made to be. Or who others believe her to be."
There was no mistaking what he meant and who his words were for. Jean-Claude rose to his feet and stared down at the other man, his actions signaling the end of their conversation. For a moment, Bert Vaughn remained in his seat. Then he came to his feet and attempted to use his size to intimidate Jean-Claude. Jean-Claude could only smile at the attempt. The man had no real idea who he was dealing with. Or perhaps he'd simply forgotten. "Is she aware that you're trying to control her life?"
"If by control you mean keep her alive, then yes. She is aware. Do not think to imply that I forbid or deny Aedan anything. That is not how our relationship works. And do not think that she does not know my feelings where she is concerned. Or those I still have for Anita. She is well aware of them, as well. Allow me to suggest that you take the time she is off resting to examine why it is you feel the need to use her to turn a profit. Aedan is a human being. Not a party trick."
Jean-Claude headed for the door, making sure that the other man knew the conversation was over and he was not going to get his way. Jean-Claude stopped at the closed panel and turned to look at Bert Vaughn over his shoulder. "I will inform Aedan when she wakens that you would like her to call you. But calling you is her choice. Not mine. I suggest, in the meantime, you do not attempt to call her again. You will not be able to contact her that way. Have a good evening, Mister Vaughn."
The door closed behind him before Bert Vaughn even thought to open his mouth in protest. Jean-Claude looked at the Wicked Truth, standing silent guard outside the door, and nodded his head. They fell into place, one behind him on either side, and followed him up the hall. Jean-Claude heard the muttered curses from the office he'd just left and smiled to himself. Perhaps the man would learn that he could not treat people as commodities.
There was actually very little chance of that actually happening. Jean-Claude knew it as well as he knew how much Aedan hated being compared to Anita. Bert Vaughn was driven by money. He'd met so many people like that in his life. But one could always hope that the terminally greedy would learn a thing or two.
~*~
Edward was settled into a chair positioned next to Aedan's bed, watching the large television mounted on the wall without any sound. He looked tired. Worried. Human. It was an unusual look for him. And one Jean-Claude was not used to seeing. His gaze slid immediately to the figure curled up under the covers, only a flash of red hair to mark where her head rested on the pillows. Her face was tucked under the blankets. He found it to be an endearing trait, though he suspected it had come into existence through the fear of her father. Which made it a childish method of protecting herself. He had to wonder if it was an automatic thing because she was worn so thin. When he pulled his gaze away, Edward was regarding him silently.
"It went as well as you expected it would?" the man asked.
"Bert Vaughn is convinced I am trying to control what Aedan does. And he does not see how wrong he is in the comparison to Anita he continues to perpetrate. If he should call again, you may answer him as you like," he replied.
Edward nodded his head, then rose from his chair. "She'll be out the rest of the night. Part of tomorrow, too. The tranquilizers Lillian prescribed were strong enough to put an elephant down. She's going to be groggy and disoriented when she finally wakes up. Which means anyone looking after her will have loads of fun. I'll be back. I'm going to go to my hotel and catch some sleep. Call Donna and let her know that I'll be staying."
Jean-Claude nodded at that. "I appreciate you looking after her. I knew that things were bad, but not this bad. As usual, Aedan managed to hide the worst of it from me." Jean-Claude's tone made it clear that he didn't like her ability to do that one bit.
"Its a left over from her days with Solomon," he said, as if Jean-Claude had asked him a question. He regarded the other man with curiosity. That was news to him. Edward gave a sigh. "At least, I'm pretty sure it is. She hasn't told me anything about her life with the man. But I have no doubt that she developed really bad, really messed up coping methods while still living with him. Maybe this event will convince her that she can't keep locking this shit up."
Jean-Claude gave him a look filled with his skepticism. "Do you honestly believe that?"
Edward sighed, turning to stare at the figure huddled under the blankets for a moment. Finally, he shook his head. "Not one damn bit," he replied. "But I can hope."
"As can we all," Jean-Claude responded. Edward gave that a bit of thought, then nodded. Without another word, he headed for the door in order to make his escape. He'd just put his hand on the knob when Jean-Claude stopped him. "Thank you, Edward. For everything."
The blonde head dipped in a single nod of acknowledgement, then the man was out the door and Jean-Claude was alone with a slumbering Aedan. The urge to hold her in his arms, such as he'd had before after every catastrophe into the middle of which she'd put herself, rose up inside of him. It was strong and refused to be denied, despite being able to see her under the covers. Despite being able to hear the soft draw of breath as she inhaled and exhaled. And despite being able to hear the slow, steady thump of her heart in her chest that said she was completely at rest.
He shed his clothing quickly, leaving them to lay where they fell, then climbed into bed with the sleeping lump that was his human servant. Despite being drugged into a deep sleep, she shifted closer to him the moment she sensed his presence beside her. He rolled her onto her other side, tucking her curled figure up under his arm. Almost immediately, she settled her head on his chest and heaved a sigh of contentment.
He tightened his arm around her and spent several long moments just listening to her breathe.
The sound of the air slipping in and out of her lungs, so slow and easy, helped relieve some of the tension he felt. Tension that had been like a hard knot in his chest from the very moment Edward had practically carried Aedan through the door into the underground lair. She'd been nearly limp in his hold, only going through the motions out of sheer stubbornness. It had been obvious to one and all present that she'd hit the very outer edges of her limits.
Jean-Claude had gone to Edward and taken her, ignored her protests that she was okay and swung her up into his arms. Then he'd carried her to bed, ordering whoever was listening to call for Dr. Lillian. Aedan had argued half-heartedly the whole time, insisting she was okay and simply needed a moment to catch her breath. Of course he'd ignored the stupidity of that statement and taken her straight to her room. There'd been little argument when he'd settled her on the edge of the bed and started removing her clothes. And he'd been able to tell that it had taken everything she had to keep herself upright for a task that was normally simple.
He'd wanted to rage at her for her stupidity. He'd wanted to call her a fool and any other word that would describe her behavior recently to hammer home the point that she was merely human and she could not simply ignore her needs, no matter what her reasoning might be. He'd wanted to have a shouting match just to see some life fill her, to see fire burning in her eyes and to hear it singeing the back of her throat as she yelled back. He'd wanted to pull her into his arms and squeeze what little breath she had right out of her. He'd wanted to tie her down and never let her leave his sight again.
He'd been frightened. Very little frightened him anymore, but he'd been frightened. It was the same fear that had lived in him when Anita had been alive, when she'd been so irrevocably tied to himself and everyone around him. He'd worried constantly over what might happen to them if something happened to her. Over what could happen to her if something happened to him. And he'd experienced a mad rush of that fear when Edward had quite literally dragged Aedan into the lair the way he had. What would happen to him, to his people, if Aedan pushed herself too far? What would happen to his heart if he was to lose her?
He let his hands glide down the length of her spine. He could feel the bump of each vertebrae through her skin and her night shirt as he went, making him wonder if she was neglecting other areas of self care. Heaving a sigh, he realized that was a stupid thing to ponder. Of course she was neglecting herself. She gave so much of herself to everyone else that she had nothing left over at the end. Hadn't she sacrificed herself to the demon and its summoner to keep Rhiannon and the people of St. Louis safe? Hadn't she done the exact same thing for him? And now she was giving her all to a half-sister because she felt guilt over the child's parentage. Because she felt she owed the girl something for not saving her from the horror that was Carter Solomon.
They were going to need to talk. He knew she understood, perhaps only in an abstract way, that she had to take care of herself. But he didn't think she really knew what that meant. What kind of childhood had she had? What kind of life did she live with Carter Solomon and his brood that she felt as if she needed to give everything of herself?
He was pulled from his thoughts by a light tap at the door. Odd. He hadn't heard or sensed anyone approaching. Which said he'd been too deep in his thoughts for his own good. "Come," he called, shifting Aedan away so that her head rested on the other pillow. He was just hauling himself up into a sitting position when the door opened to allow Minette into the room. She cast an apprehensive glance toward the bed, as if afraid she'd disturb her friend. He offered Minette a smile and beckoned her closer.
"How is she?" Minette asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper. She closed the distance between herself and the bed, her gaze locked to the spot where he knew Aedan's head rested. "She looks terrible."
Jean-Claude smiled at her. "That would be your answer."
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to disturb you. I just wanted to check in and make sure everything was okay," Minette said, the words tumbling out in a rush. As if she was afraid to spend any more time in his presence than necessary. Jean-Claude considered it a moment.
"You are not disturbing anything, Minette," he assured her and watched as some tension slid out of her shoulders. Curious. Did she think he would blame her for Aedan's state? It seemed he needed to make sure she knew that he placed no blame on her shoulders. "In fact, I am glad you are here."
"You are?" she asked, a hint of surprise and disbelief in her voice. He was reminded of the timid kitten she'd been when she'd first come to St. Louis. Over the months, he had seen less and less of that shy creature. But there were times, like now, when he would catch glimpses of who Minette had been.
"Yes. I would like to speak with you, if you have no objections," he told her. Minette stared a moment or two, as if she was trying to figure out what he wanted to talk about or as if she didn't believe him, then finally nodded her head.
"No. No objections," she said, her gaze sliding toward Aedan again.
"We will not wake her so you have no need to worry on that account. Dr. Lillian gave her something to ensure she sleeps," he assured her. He slid from the bed, unconcerned with how she would perceive his nudity, and motioned toward the couch on the other side of the room. Minette headed for it, giving him time to scoop up his jeans and slide into them before joining her. Her gaze shifted nervously toward Aedan time and again before he joined her. "I swear to you she will be fine, Minette. You truly have no reason to worry."
"Sorry," she stammered, as if feeling guilty at being caught.
"I, too, am worried about her. She has been behaving recklessly. She was fortunate that Edward was with her or I shudder to think what might have happened," Jean-Claude settled himself on the couch beside her and took a moment to study her face. She didn't look apprehensive, but he got the sense that she was waiting for him to say something harsh. Perhaps to lay the blame for her friend's erratic behavior at her feet. He reached out and took hold of a hand, lifting it to press a kiss against the back of it. "She is also lucky to have such a steadfast friend," he offered.
"Some friend I am. I didn't even know she was so close to the edge," Minette said, tone filled with bitter self-loathing. And it was exactly the kind of opening he needed to begin the conversation he wanted to have with her.
"Nor did I. And I am supposed to be her lover, am I not?" he responded, making sure she heard a touch of his own guilt in his words. Minette stared at him a moment. He could see that she was apprehensive. Maybe she thought he was trying to trap her. "She keeps so much of herself hidden away from me. Even after all this time. I was unaware she capable of driving herself so far."
"Aedan has always been intense," Minette told him.
"But this intense?" he questioned.
The woman sitting beside him shrugged a shoulder negligently, as if that was the answer to his question. Then she sighed and shook her head. "I never saw her get this intense. It took a lot of time for her to relax enough around me to laugh and tell jokes and have fun. She was never like that with the people we went to school with. She was always guarded with them."
"She never let anyone in?" he asked softly. His gaze flicked to where Aedan slept as he considered what Minette had told him.
"Only me," Minette admitted. Jean-Claude took time to consider that, too.
"Perhaps because you were not a threat to her security?" he suggested.
It was Minette's turn to consider his words. She finally shook her head, a faint frown drawing her brows down. "I don't think so. I think its because she saw a kindred spirit. Maybe. When Aedan and I met, we kind of clicked right away. I mean, of course she knew what I was and it didn't bother her one bit. In fact, I think she preferred it over any of the normal people at school. Then when she realized I was... damaged..." Minette's words trailed off as if she was embarrassed by speaking them. Jean-Claude reached a hand out to pat hers. It was meant to be reassuring. He wasn't sure how Minette took it because she remained silent for quite some time. Finally, she cleared her throat and turned her attention to the bed. "When she realized that I was damaged, we grew closer. Like I said. I think she saw me as a kindred spirit. And she pulled the story from me. All of it. In one night. Over a bottle of really cheap wine and a box of Poptarts."
Minette paused, the memory bringing forth a soft smile. Her gaze slid back to the bed and she stared at Aedan for several silent moments. "She vowed then and there that she would kill Bruce for me. For every harm he visited upon me, she would visit the same harm in return." Minette fell silent, bringing her gaze back to his face. There was something akin to apprehension and no small amount of fear in her gaze. "At the time, I didn't think she really meant it. Not the way she said she'd do it. I mean, I know she meant it. Because she got all intense and stoic. You know how she gets when she's vowing to do something. But I just thought she meant she'd find some way to kill him and that would be the end of it."
"You do not think so now?" he asked, prodding her to continue. It seemed as if they'd get further in their conversation if he simply let her talk and only occasionally nudged her in the direction he wanted it to go.
"Now, after hearing about the things she did to Vittorio and his people. After seeing how she took on the demon all by herself, knowing that it would likely result in her death... Now, I think she meant it exactly as she said it. That she would have happily done to Bruce every thing he'd done to me over the years. A pain for a pain. I think she would have really, really hurt him. And then she would have killed him."
"I have often times felt her sense of loyalty is quite... complicated," he admitted."I was unaware that it ran so deep."
"I told you. Aedan has always been intense. But I have never seen her like this before," Minette replied. Her tension was starting to ease up, leaving her tongue less guarded.
"Did you ever discover where such intensity came from?" he asked.
She shook her head. "She never told me anything about her life before college. At first, I asked questions. But she would divert the conversation. Until she finally told me to never ask her about her family because she would never tell me anything. Her tone was so cold and so curt." Minette drifted off into thought for a moment. "But I think, looking back on it now, that there was hurt there, too. I just didn't know her as well as I do now, so I couldn't see it."
"Odd. She made it clear to one and all that she wanted nothing to do with Carter Solomon," he responded, slipping into thought. "Yet you say she was hurt. Do you think that perhaps she was hurt by the treatment she was subjected to by Carter Solomon and his family?"
Minette considered it. For a good, long while. Finally, she gave a slow nod. "I think maybe she was."
"Did she ever tell you anything about him or about how he treated her?"
"No. She refused to talk about it at all. She kept that part of her life closed off. I didn't know anything about it until a few months ago. When she told everyone about him. I cannot imagine what her life with that monster was like."
"Do you think it is possible that the way he treated her is the reason behind her intensity?"
"I wouldn't be surprised if it was. I think he did a serious number on her. Him and his ilk. I've never seen her truly relaxed. Even now, after being here for so long, with him dead and you in her life, she still isn't fully relaxed. Almost as if she's waiting for something to happen."
Jean-Claude thought it was perhaps exactly what was going on. He got the impression that Aedan had never had a terribly stable home life. She'd gone from Carter Solomon's tender care to Edward's. And then she'd more or less ended up bound to a life she'd likely never considered having because Anita had been so determined to keep her family safe. He turned over what little he'd learned, slotting it into the limited picture he had of the woman he and his people were tied to. It did not fill much in and he was in the process of trying to decide how to approach Aedan about it when Minette's voice brought him out of his thoughts.
"You're sure she's going to be okay?" she asked quietly. He could hear the fear in her words, and the lingering threads of guilt.
"She will be fine. We will all see to it," he replied. Minette nodded and rose from the couch. "I should go. I'm tired and I've been worried... I just had to check on her before I went to bed. I had to make sure."
"Go. Seek your rest. I will not leave her alone until I have to seek out my own rest. And I will see to it that there is someone with her at all times until we are certain she has regained all of her strength," he said, making it a vow. Minette nodded and started for the door. He could see the hesitance in her movements, as if she was afraid to leave her friend for fear something might happen. But she continued to the door, opened it silently, and slipped into the hall. The latch clicked shut quietly and he was again alone with Aedan.
Rising from the couch, Jean-Claude crossed to the bed and once more stripped off his jeans. He climbed up onto the mattress next to her, settling himself on the pillows before pulling her close. Aedan snuggled up to him, letting go a soft sigh as she settled her head against his shoulder. He sighed, too, though his was less in contentment and more in confusion. He still didn't know anything and he was starting to think, short of forcing her to tell him, that he never would.
Women. Why were they so complicated?
~*~*~*~*~
"Rhiannon? Rhiannon, are you listening?" The question cut across her thoughts, pulling her back to the comfortable couch settled across from the plush leather chair in Doctor Tilson's nicely appointed office. Rhia blinked and looked up to find that the therapist was eyeing her with concern. "Are you okay, Rhiannon? Were you caught up in memories? You were very distracted."
"Oh, no. Not memories," Rhia assured her. In fact, she hadn't had much trouble on the memory front recently. The therapy sessions were really helping. The few times she'd frozen when Nathaniel had touched her had ended with discussion instead of apologies and guilt.
Doctor Tilson gave her a look that clearly said she didn't believe her. "Are you sure? One moment, you were talking about how Nathaniel has been handling the lingering issues you have with intimacy, the next you were simply... elsewhere."
Rhia frowned. She hoped 'elsewhere' wasn't code for a vision. She knew that her eyes clouded over when her visions came. She'd been told by several people on more than one occasion that they did. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to mentally wander off like that," Rhia said. And she hadn't. The last thing she remembered saying was that Nathaniel was amazing and was finding ways to initiate intimacy without getting naked. That he was going out of his way to find non-triggering ways to be intimate with her. And that thought had somehow led her down the rabbit hole that was the current situation at the Circus.
Namely, a crisis named Aedan Kinkade.
Of course she was worried about Aedan. How could she not be worried about her friend? She had heard from several sources that Aedan had pushed herself well past exhaustion. She'd even heard that Edward had had to carry her down into the lair because she hadn't been able to remain on her own two feet. Rhia hadn't been there when that event had happened, had been sleeping because the pregnancy was draining from her what little energy she had. But she'd heard from Jason just how bad the other woman had looked. And how worried Jean-Claude was about it all.
"Are you sure?" Doctor Tilson asked again. It was a tactic the woman used to ensure that her clients weren't deflecting when they didn't want to talk about something. In the beginning, it had annoyed Rhia to no end. But that was no longer an issue now that she understood what Doctor Tilson was trying to accomplish.
"I am absolutely sure. I'm really fine. I promise. I'm just... concerned. About a friend," Rhia told her. Concerned wasn't really the right word. Freaked out might work better. Or something even stronger. But she'd settled on concern because she really didn't want to freak her therapist out. She wasn't sure how up on the preternatural world Doctor Tilson was.
"Just concerned?" the woman asked, shifting positions in her chair. She set her notepad and pen down, giving her full attention to Rhia. "This feels like more than simple concern. Tell my why you're worried about this friend."
"My worry for my friend isn't why I'm here, though," Rhia responded. She was supposed to be dealing with her trauma. Not talking about someone else.
"Your worry for your friend can impact your mental health. Which will, in turn, impact how our sessions work for you. I don't want to see you lose1 the progress you've made," Doctor Tilson informed her.
Rhia wanted to protest that it wasn't her story to tell, that it wasn't the reason she was in therapy. But the look on the other woman's face suggested she wasn't going to accept any excuses. Rhia sighed softly and shook her head, trying to figure out where to start. She finally decided that she should make sure the good doctor knew what she was talking about before she talked about it. "How much do you know about the preternatural community and all it entails?"
The question seemingly threw the woman off her game for a few seconds, because she only stared at Rhia. Blinked a couple times in what Rhia was sure was confusion. To be honest, it was kind of an out of the blue way to start a discussion. Doctor Tilson was silent for a few moments, obviously considering how to answer, before she drew a breath and shook her head. "Not much, I'm afraid. I know that vampires exist, as do werewolves. But I don't really know specifics."
"There are more shifters than just werewolves," Rhia assured her, bringing a startled look to the woman's face. "I'll give you a quick primer, because it is vital to understanding my worry. You know vampires exist. What you may not know is that each one possesses a certain level of power. It can increase with age so that the older a vampire gets, the more power they can have. Some attain what is called master status. Some don't."
"Master status. Like the Master of the City?" Doctor Tilson asked curiously.
"Yes. Jean-Claude is a master vampire. And it is that status, the power he's gained, that helps him maintain his position as Master of the City. He more or less lords over the preternatural community here in St. Louis. All of the vampires, every group of lycanthropes, all the witches, the psychics, and any other group with supernatural gifts that lives here essentially answers to him."
"You... know the Master of the City?" Doctor Tilson asked, sounding like she was genuinely shocked by that knowledge.
"Quite well," Rhia confirmed.
"And this friend you're worried about. Is it the Master of the City?" The question was spoken in such a way that Rhia was sure that the woman didn't really know what to believe.
"No. Not Jean-Claude. Aedan Kinkade. His human servant," Rhia told her.
Doctor Tilson blinked at that. "Your friend is a vampire's servant?" There was concern in the therapist's voice, letting Rhia know that she didn't know what a human servant was. Not surprising. Most people without a toe in the community didn't understand such things.
"Yes. But not in the way you're thinking. Their lives are tied to one another. Bound to one another. Not through enslavement, but through mystical means. There are perks for both the human and the vampire, but there are also drawbacks for both, as well. The title human servant is really kind of misleading because anyone bound to a vampire has total control over their life. The vampire can't force them to do anything they don't want to do. They're more like a glorified daytime secretary for a vampire." Rhia almost chuckled at the face Aedan would make if she heard anyone describe her as Jean-Claude's secretary.
"Okay. So your friend, a woman bound to the Master of the City through magical means, is in crisis. Is that correct?" Doctor Tilson had put her therapist voice back on, meaning she was all business. Rhia nodded her head.
"Crisis is a mild description, I think," Rhia told her.
"What's going on with her? Why does it have you so concerned?"
"Aedan is a necromancer. She works for Animators, Inc." Rhia paused a moment, waiting to see if the other woman recognized the name.
"Animators, Inc. is the company that specializes in raising zombies, right? Anita Blake used to work for them until her death," Doctor Tilson said.
"That's correct. Aedan kind of... inherited much of Anita's life." Inherited wasn't the right word, but Rhia didn't think trying to explain to the woman that Anita had essentially magically mind fucked Aedan would go over well. "She took over as Jean-Claude's human servant. She took over at Animators, Inc. She took over consulting with the St. Louis police department. She's a Federal Marshal. She's a licensed vampire hunter. Her list of titles is kind of extensive."
Doctor Tilson frowned at that. "I don't think extensive is the word I'd use. Over the top would suit better. Or unreal. That would be a good description." Rhia nodded. Insane was another word she might use for Aedan's list of titles. But she kept that one to herself because she was fairly certain her therapist would take offense to the term. "How does she do it?"
"I don't think she does," Rhia replied. Doctor Tilson studied her a moment, then gave a brief nod of her head.
"She's stretched too thin."
Rhia considered the phrase and finally shook her head. "Not stretched. Scraped. She's been scraped too thin. She has been for some time. When she first came to St. Louis, she had three different murder investigations to deal with. One of them was far more personal than I think she liked and it left scars. Some of our friends were almost killed. Every one hoped, when the last one was solved, that she would have a chance to relax. But it wasn't to be. There is so much going on that she's given her attention to that she takes no time for herself. And now there are a new set of murders going on and..."
Rhia trailed off, prompting Doctor Tilson to look up from her notes. "And?" she prodded gently.
"There's stuff she hasn't told anyone. About her childhood. There's some kind of trauma there. Any mention of her life before she came to St. Louis sees her just shutting down. Or she gets so angry that I'm afraid she'll hurt someone."
"You're afraid she'll hurt herself," Doctor Tilson said matter-of-factly. Rhia frowned and shook her head.
"I don't think she'd do it intentionally. But she gets so mad that she's likely to go do something stupid. And then she can get hurt." Rhia took a moment to consider what to tell the woman, hoping that Doctor Tilson wouldn't ask her what kind of stupid things Aedan would be likely to do. "As if all that isn't bad enough, she's so loyal and protective of her friends, her found family, that she will willingly put herself in harm's way to keep them safe."
"She's done so for you," Doctor Tilson observed, pen scratching almost silently across the pad of paper she held. "Your body language gives it away."
"She nearly got killed because she was trying to protect me." Doctor Tilson didn't need to know that Rhia would have died if she'd done what she'd originally planned. She also didn't need to know that, technically, Aedan had gotten killed trying to protect her. That was not a thing she wanted to discuss in therapy for days to come. "She took on a demon and it almost cost her her life. And that's not the only time she's done something like that. She confronted the people who were kidnapping, torturing, and killing lycanthropes. She took on the large group of people who murdered Anita Blake. Its like she feels she's got something to prove to the world."
The pen had stopped moving and Doctor Tilson was watching her with a faint frown on her face. It pulled the corners of her mouth down, formed wrinkles in her forehead. "You're talking about the demon and lycanthrope murders from a few months ago."
"Yes," Rhia nodded, not really surprised that the woman knew exactly what she was talking about.
"Rhiannon, I work with the therapist the police have on staff. I've seen some of the crime scene photos. I know what kind of horrors were found at those scenes. Your friend saw them? All of them?"
"She did. Including the last one the demon was responsible for. There were so many children there. So many people who died. And Aedan saw it all."
Doctor Tilson set her pen and pad of paper down on the table beside her. "Has your friend found a therapist?"
"No. She bottles it up. Sometimes she doesn't sleep or eat for days because the dreams are so bad. Add that to her various jobs and the commitments she's made to various people and organizations... I don't know how she goes on." Rhia shook her head and glanced at the wall, her mind going back to what she'd been told about Aedan's return the other night and how bad things had been. "She's hit her stopping point, though. I know she was brought home the other night, pretty much incapable of moving on her own. Someone had to help her home. I know that her doctor gave her something to make her sleep because she was so wiped out. I just didn't know she was so close the edge and I don't know how she does it. I don't know how to help her and keep her from killing herself."
"Rhiannon, you can't help her. Based on what you've told me, she needs to see someone who specializes in trauma. Because your friend has run from one trauma to another. She cannot continue to do so without serious consequences." Doctor Tilson shook her head and gave everything she'd been told deep consideration. "Without having talked to her, I would hazard a guess that there's some unresolved trauma from her childhood and that it is the reason she acts the way she does. She thinks the trauma is normal, so she pushes it aside and continues on. Until she can't anymore, because there's simply too much trauma bottled up inside her head. You need to convince her that she should find a therapist. Her health depends on it. And so does yours. Worrying about her will make you ill."
"We've told her more than once that she needs to speak to someone about everything. And I think she knows that she really needs to. She just doesn't know how to ask for the help she needs. She's very used to doing everything for herself."
Doctor Tilson sighed. "Make her understand that she cannot let it continue to compound. She will break under the burden and that won't be pretty. At the very least, she might end up in a mental health facility. At worst, she could develop a life-long psychosis that will impede her ability to do anything." Though her tone was gentle, the meaning behind them was not. Aedan needed to get help or she was going to seriously fuck up her life. And everyone else's alone with it.
"I'll do what I can," Rhia nodded, though she didn't think there was much hope of convincing Aedan to do anything. Her hands rubbed her belly in a familiar motion, felt the swell of her baby bump, and took comfort in it. It was an absent action, one that she did countless times a day. The feel of her gently swelling belly was soothing, somehow managing to help calm her when her emotions got away from her.
Doctor Tilson smiled softly. "How's the little one doing?" she asked.
"So far, I think everything is fine. We have an appointment to see the ob/gyn next week. She's going to do a sonogram," Rhia told her.
"Are you going to find out what your baby's gender will be?" Doctor Tilson asked, her smile growing a little brighter and wider.
"Nathaniel wants to know," Rhia began, doing her best to hold back the sigh. "But I don't. It doesn't matter to me. I just want a healthy, happy baby. That's the only thing that's really important to me." Rhia considered explaining that she hated the idea that people should start pushing labels on a baby before it even made its first appearance in the world, but she shook the idea off. There was no reason to get into that discussion, because she wasn't sure explaining the concept of gender as a social construct was something that was supposed to fall into her therapy sessions. "We'll see if I change my mind before the appointment."
"In my experience, anyone who doesn't want to know the gender of their child usually continues to not want to know right up until birth. Given how determined you are, Rhiannon, I think the chances of you changing your mind are slim to none," Doctor Tilson replied, tone mild and amused.
Rhia gave her a smile and shook her head. "That should be enough, yes. But you do not know just how determined Nathaniel can be."
The other woman stared at her a moment or two before giving a single nod, a wry smile on her lips. "I see. A battle of wills. It should be interesting to find out just which one of you ends up the victor." Then she reached for her pad of paper and pen once more and she shifted in her seat, taking up the posture that told Rhia she was going to start asking questions. Rhia held on to her sigh and reminded herself that she wasn't here to keep things in. Doctor Tilson was doing her best to help Rhia with the slowly healing wounds left behind by her trauma. "Now. Before we had the discussion about your friend, you were telling me about how Nathaniel was working toward non-threatening instance of intimacy. Let's get back to that, shall we?"
Rhia held on to her sigh and gave a nod. It was going to be a long session.
~*~*~*~*~
"How long was I out?" Aedan's voice was soft and filled with sleep. He glanced away from the television to find her staring at him expectantly. Strands of hair had pulled from the braid someone had worked it into, giving her a wispy, fiery halo. Her eyes were still heavy with sleep, pupils wide enough that her irises were thin rings around them. No doubt a side effect of the drugs used to help her rest. There was color in her cheeks once more and the big black circles that had taken up residence under her eyes were greatly diminished. He felt she could have slept longer, but Jean-Claude had made the decision to cut back on the sleeping pills that Dr. Lillian had given them for her.
"It has been just over eighty hours since Edward brought you home and Jean-Claude put you to bed," he told her.
"Three days?" she asked, seeming utterly unfazed by the news. "Who supplied the drugs? Edward or Dr. Lillian?"
"The latter is responsible for keeping you in bed," he said.
"Good to know. Because when Bert calls me having kittens about how much work I'm missing, I'm going to give him her number and let him try to take it out on her," Aedan said, bringing herself up into a sitting position. The blankets pooled in her lap, exposing the plain grey cotton t-shirt Jean-Claude had put her in just before putting her in bed.
"Jean-Claude has already spoken with Mr. Vaughn." The announcement saw her frowning at him.
"Jean-Claude spoke to Bert?" she asked.
"He did. He informed the man that you were going to be out for the whole week. Possibly longer," he replied. He watched as she closed her eyes for a few moments, as if she was counting to ten in her head, before opening them again and frowning at him.
"I'm going to have to have a talk with him," she muttered, a touch of heat in her voice.
"He was well within his rights. He was protecting your best interests since you seem unwilling to protect them yourself." There must have been more of his anger in his voice than he'd intended because Aedan gave him a look that plainly said she was possibly a little uneasy. He regretted making her uneasy, but he wasn't going to apologize. She'd scared everyone and his anger was justified. She was silent a moment, making him think that she was winding up to tear into him.
"I think you're being a little harsh, Asher," she began instead, voice steady and even. He drew a breath meant to calm himself, his temper flaring at her obvious intent to insist that she hadn't physically been at the end of her rope. It didn't help because if there was one thing Aedan was good at, it was trying the patience of the saints.
"You were unable to bring yourself home after dealing with Tina's accidental zombies. It would normally be nothing for you to take control of a few zombies and bend them to your will. But you could not do something so simple without overtaxing your pitiful reserves of energy. You have been spreading yourself too thin lately, Aedan. You must take care of yourself."
"I know, I know," she said, words tumbling out with an edge of snide mockery to them. "Too many lives depend upon my being healthy. I've heard it all before."
Asher took a moment to try and push his anger aside. Shouting at her had proven to be less than effective and the last thing he planned on doing was put her on the offensive. And she was right. She had heard it all before. Many, many times. Perhaps it was time to try a different avenue of persuasion. "While it is true that the health of many members of the community are directly tied to your continued good health, that isn't the only reason you should take care of yourself."
Aedan gave him a look that suggested she had already made the decision to ignore whatever he said as unimportant. Asher tried to find his patience again, his temper too easy to rile on the best of days. "Enlighten me."
"You should take care of yourself because there are those of us who love you and do not wish to see you so worn down," he responded, voice soft. His words had the desired effect. The rebellion that had been lurking in her gaze was gone in an instant and she gave him a look brimming with contrition.
"I'm sorry," she said, voice a whisper. The apology was instant and sincere. "I forget."
No two words could have made his heart ache any more than those two words did. It was an absolutely incredible notion to him that someone would forget that there were people who loved them. And it shouldn't have, because hadn't he done the very same thing himself all those years ago? "Perhaps we should spend more time reminding you that you are loved. That we love you and that we care about what happens to you."
Aedan slid from the bed and padded over to the chair he occupied. It'd been moved up beside the bed so that the people who had volunteered to keep an eye on her while she slept could be close at hand if she'd needed something. She leaned forward and dropped a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth. "You won't believe me but this is all still so very new to me. Its easy to forget that there are people out there who do actually give a shit about what happens to me."
Asher rose from his seat so that he could wrap his arms around her and hug her close. "You should not have to remember that people care.That should have been something you knew from birth." He punctuated his statement with a chaste kiss on her lips. "But that is no reason for you to work yourself into exhaustion. You have spread yourself too thin, and your commitments are wearing you out."
Aedan frowned at him a moment, then shook her head. "What am I supposed to do? Say no to people who need my help? Ignore a sibling in need of my specific knowledge? Turn down clients? Tell the police I can't come to their crime scene because I'm too tired?"
Asher studied her a moment, considering his words carefully. It would be too easy to make his case the wrong way and upset her. It was amazing just how volatile Aedan's temper could be at times. He had his own theories as to why that was, most of which came down to the fact that she'd never had the opportunity to be angry as a child. Nor had she been given the opportunity to love or be happy or any of those other emotions that normal children got to experience. He suspected, based on what little he knew of her parentage and her childhood, that she had spent much of her time being frightened and sad.
"Perhaps that is something you should consider, cherie," he said, using it to open up the topic to discussion. Aedan blinked at him, as if she didn't understand what he was suggesting. He took hold of her hand and started for the couch that sat up against the far wall in what he thought of as her entertaining area. She followed silently, settling lightly on the cushion next to him only after he patted it with one hand.
It pained him to see how... careful she was when around him. As if she was uncertain what she was and wasn't allowed to do. Granted, their relationship was still relatively new. And there had been no discussions of boundaries and limitations as of yet. But he couldn't help feeling near blinding rage at the people who had played mother and father to her because they'd given her an education that consisted only of mistrust and fear.
"Explain," she said. It was a blunt order that reminded him of Edward far more than he was comfortable with. Asher did his best to ignore it and do as she'd told him.
"You are pulled in far too many directions. There simply is not enough of you to go around and so you sacrifice too much energy in an effort to meet all of these obligations. You leave nothing for yourself."
Aedan stared at him a moment. "And which obligation do I ignore?"
"I do not mean you should ignore an obligation. I mean you should eliminate an obligation." He wasn't sure if she was being intentionally dense or if she honestly didn't get what he was driving at. He put it down to the sleeping pills. No doubt they'd made it difficult for her to process information rapidly.
"Eliminate one? Like what? Drop my sister? Quit my job?" The scoffing sound she made let him know what she thought of the idea.
"Which one requires more of your time and energy than the others?" he asked in all seriousness.
Aedan obviously hadn't expected such a response because she blinked at him in confusion. But her face took on a distant look, telling him she was giving the question the honest consideration it deserved. It was several moments before she answered him. "Animators, Inc. That takes so much time and energy. I'm always meeting with clients. Always trying to determine if they really need my help or if they're playing tourist and getting their jollies by meeting with Anita Blake's protégé or whatever it is they want to call me. There are always too many raisings. Any outside thing that comes up results in the headache of rescheduling meetings or raisings or whatever. I always have to be careful about how I present myself to clients. Its exhausting always having to monitor myself."
"Then perhaps you should quit that job."
"Quit that job," she echoed, a faint sense of wonder in her voice. As if she'd never thought of it before. "You make it sound so easy."
"Is it not?"
Aedan stared at him, her eyes filled with wonder and confusion as they warred for control. "I... don't know. I never gave it consideration. I never thought--" She trailed off, obviously shocked by the mere suggestion.
"Why did you not give it consideration?" he asked, studying her face intently. Aedan frowned a bit, and her cheeks pinked up, letting him know that, whatever the reason, it embarrassed her. "Did it honestly never occur to you? Or did you not think it was an option?"
She glanced at the wall, her gaze taking on a far away look. He was fairly certain that she had slipped into memory. And whatever she was remembering brought a deep frown to her face. "I didn't think it was an option. I thought, when I made that damn promise, that it meant I was supposed to take on all of her obligations as my own. So I took over her job with Animators. And I took over consulting with the police. And I... I just took over. I didn't think I was allowed to let something slip out of my fingers."
"Aedan," Asher began, hands reaching out to cup her cheeks. Gentle pressure saw her turning to look at him. He could see in her eyes that she honestly hadn't thought she'd had the option of letting something go. "Cherie. Anita did not mean for you to become her. She simply made you promise to take care of the people she loved. And you have done that. You have done that so well that it nearly cost you your life. You cannot be everything to everyone. You must leave something for yourself."
She stared at him, eyes wide with the revelation she'd just had. "I'll consider it. But if I did quit, what would I do? For a job, I mean. What work would I do?"
"You are already a consultant for the police. And a Federal Marshal. Do you not think those take up enough of your time? What else do you think you need to do?" he questioned. Asher had to wonder how his suggestion that she consider giving up one of her obligations had brought her to the thought that she needed to merely switch it for another.
"Maybe I could become a consultant. I could pick my clients. I could set limits as to what I will and won't do. And I could set my own rate of pay. I could make this tie I have to Anita work for me instead of against me," she said slowly, as if the idea was still forming in her head. "I don't know. I'll have to think about it. Maybe talk to everyone and see what they think." She fell silent a moment while Asher's mind reeled from the way Aedan's seemed to work. Then she glanced at him and he swore he could see her mentally switching gears.
"You know about fashion, right?" she asked. The leap from talking about work to talking about clothes was seemingly random, but he knew that there was a good reason for the question. "I need some advice on fashion and I don't want to ask Jean-Claude because I don't want him to think I'm pathetic when it comes to things like that."
The last of her statement was delivered with a healthy dose of embarrassment. "I doubt Jean-Claude would think you pathetic, cherie, but I will answer your questions. If I know the answers."
She shot him a look that told him she had less faith in Jean-Claude than he did, but she said nothing on the subject. Instead, she drew a breath as she worked up her courage. "What kind of dress does one wear to a charitable ball?"
"A charitable ball? I suppose that depends on the statement one wishes to make upon entry," he replied steadily. "Why do you ask?"
"Jean-Claude got invited to this charitable ball and I need to find something to wear. The last thing we went to, he picked out my dress." He remembered the dress. It had been lovely and Aedan had looked beautiful in it. He also remembered that Aedan had been attacked in that dress and the police had taken it for evidence.
"What is the charity?" The type of charity would help him decide what kind of evening attire she should purchase for the event.
"Actually, I don't know. The invitation didn't say. Just listed the group holding the event and called it a charitable ball," Aedan responded.
"What is the name of the group? That might help us narrow the choices down." Some charities were old and stodgy and required their donors to dress accordingly.
"The Anubis Foundation," she told him casually. Asher went still in the blink of an eye. It was the last thing he'd expected to hear her say.
"Aedan," he began. Surely she didn't think that Jean-Claude would go to an event hosted by the Anubis Foundation? He'd have to be mad to even consider doing such a thing. She looked up at him and offered him a soft smile that did nothing to make him feel better.
"Don't worry, Asher. I know the Anubis Foundation is a front for the vampires' version of a Nazi party or whatever. I know they're not a good group. Which is why Jean-Claude is taking me. So I can figure out what kind of bad stuff they're up to. Figure it out and put a stop to it."
"The Anubis Foundation is nothing to play around with, Aedan. They are ruthless and dangerous. They do not like humans and will only barely tolerate a vampire's human servant. You would make a target of yourself the moment you stepped through the door." And hadn't they just been talking about her tendency to do that?
"Why do you think we're going?" she asked steadily. Gone was the sleepiness that had clung when she'd first woken, that had come from the use of sleeping pills to help her regain her energy. In its place was ruthlessness and determination. He found he did not like how those traits looked on her.
"I do not think you understand how horrible a group The Anubis Foundation is," he told her softly.
"Jean-Claude told me all about them. And we both find it curious that they'd invite him to one of their events. The entire world knows who he is and they all know he's the vampire world's favorite son. We're going to go to find out what they've got planned. Because they've obviously got something planned." She sounded so calm about it all. She had no idea. None at all.
"Jean-Claude knows a watered down version of who and what the Anubis Foundation is. He does not know the real story." His words saw her staring at him hard. He could tell she was trying to find the meaning behind his words. And he knew if she didn't figure it out on her own, she would start questioning him. If there was one quality that Aedan had in abundance, it was determination. She would question him about this and she wouldn't let up until she had her answers.
She stared for several tense moments, then she sat back against the couch. Her arms crossed under her chest and her expression became intent. "Explain." That single word held all the authority she had, the same kind of authority he'd heard in Edward's voice time and again. But it also held something else. Compulsion. It wasn't a compulsion that would work on Asher, or any other vampire who had amassed power, but it would work on lesser vampires. Normal humans would have little chance of resisting it.
He had to wonder if she knew she possessed that power.
"Whatever Jean-Claude told you about the Anubis Foundation, it is barely a scratch on the surface. They are intent on destroying the world as we know it and reshaping it into their own image. They are willing to wipe out entire cities to get their way. Murder is not below them. Violence is an aphrodisiac. They believe humans are little more than cattle to feed upon as they please. They care little for the rules of humanity. And the care even less for the rules of the vampire council."
Aedan frowned for a moment, her eyes narrowing on him. "You were a member."
There was so much accusation in her tone that it hurt. But he couldn't deny her words. "It was a very dark time in my life, Aedan. I thought that the Anubis Foundation could give me the things I had lost."
She considered his words a moment, then frowned. "Family. It was after Julianna's death, wasn't it? You lost her. You lost Jean-Claude. You were angry. You thought they'd make a good replacement family." She fell silent a moment. When she spoke again, there was a bluntness to her words that made them that much sharper and more cutting. "You didn't participate in any of that murder you say they're fond of, did you?"
"It was a long time ago, Aedan. I was a different person. It was a different time. There were no laws against such things."
She gave him a flat look. "Did you kill people recklessly because your new family said it was okay to do so?" This time, there was a touch of coldness in her voice.
"I did not," he replied. "I realized quickly enough that the vampires who founded the Anubis Foundation were mad and delusional. My love for Julianna was still deep. Despite the pain of loss and the anger that ate at me, I realized that there was nothing that the Anubis Foundation could give me. I was not a part of their group for very long. Which is a good thing, because the group was hunted down and destroyed by order of the council shortly after I left them."
The wheels started turning before he'd even finished speaking. "You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"
"It was the reason I ended up back in the council's good graces," he admitted. He reached out and took hold of Aedan's hands, lifted them to press kisses to her palms. "You must trust me when I say the Anubis Foundation will mean you harm. You are little more than fodder to them. You must not go to this event."
"They're planning something. Sometime specifically to do with Jean-Claude. Otherwise, there would be no reason to invite him." He heard in her voice that he would not be able to change her mind. "I have to go, Asher. I have to protect my family."
She reached out a hand and pressed it to his cheek, stroked the tips of her fingers against his skin softly. "All of my family."
Asher sighed deeply, resignation settling into his chest like a lead weight. Nothing good would come from Aedan prying into the affairs of the Anubis Foundation. But he would not be able to sway her. So he would have to do the next best thing. "If you are determined to attend this event, I will have to teach you everything I know. Because I, too, must protect my family.
Chapter Four: Fogged
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
"To what do I owe the pleasure of this meeting?" Bert Vaughn asked with a broad smile on his face. The man behind Animators, Inc. gave the appearance of being jovial and easy going. But it was merely a front. There was no hiding the shrewd look in the man's eyes or the subtle hum of anticipation that kept his muscles tense beneath his expensive suit. It was obvious he thought he'd just been given a gift from the heavens. That thought would last only a few more moments, though. Because he was not going to take pleasure in this visit, nor would he like the reason for it. "It isn't often that the Master of the City comes to Animators, Inc. And even less often that he comes to see me personally. How can I help you, Jean-Claude?"
Jean-Claude sighed, though it was not a sound of remorse. More one of distaste. It was time to burst the man's bubble. Thoroughly. And perhaps painfully. "I am here to inform you that Aedan will be indisposed. Indefinitely. I do not see her returning to work for at least a week. Perhaps even longer."
Bert blinked, as if he didn't fully understand what he'd just heard. His smile did not fade, but it did wilt a bit at the corners. That suggested to Jean-Claude that the man planned on trying to convince him to reconsider the decision. Or convince Aedan to reconsider the decision. "Excuse me? I don't believe I heard you correctly." The way his words were spoken was a subtle challenge. Jean-Claude offered a smile of his own, one that might have held just a bit of fang in it.
"Please. Let us not play these games. You heard me correctly. Aedan will not be in to work this week. Perhaps not even next week." He made sure his tone was final and touched with both power and authority.
"I don't think that's your decision to make," the man said. He wasn't anxious yet, but there was a hint of it building in his voice. His statement was an attempt to work around the situation.
"Of course it is," Jean-Claude assured him. He might have been a little smug about it. "It is in my best interests to ensure that Aedan is well rested and healthy. And, right now, she is neither well rested, nor is she healthy. She is exhausted and at the very end of her ability to function. That exhaustion affects all around her. Including myself. Starting tonight, she is taking a break so that she may rest up."
"I'd like to hear this from her personally," Bert said, hand reaching for his phone. Jean-Claude gave a slight incline of his head, letting the man know he was more than welcome to call Aedan's cell. What little he knew of Bert Vaughn told him to expect nothing less. He watched, silent, as Bert Vaughn tapped the numbered keys on the phone's base. He made sure to put the call on speaker, as if he was certain Aedan would be more inclined to his way of thinking. The other line rang twice before the call connected.
"Aedan Kinkade's phone," a masculine voice said. Jean-Claude saw Bert pause in confusion a moment. Apparently he hadn't expected someone else to answer. Did the fool honestly think Jean-Claude would come to him personally and tell falsehoods where Aedan's health was concerned? Did the fool honestly think Aedan would allow him to do something like that? If he did, he knew so very little about Aedan.
"Let me speak with Aedan," he finally said, gathering his wits around him
"I'm afraid I can't do that. Aedan is sleeping," the voice returned without inflection.
"Then wake her up. Tell her its Bert Vaughn calling," the man responded.
"Even if I wanted to wake her up, which I don't, I can't. She took some sleeping tablets before going to bed. It'll be at least eight hours before she wakes up and I highly doubt she'll be coherent enough for a phone call when she does." There was a pause from the other end, during which time Bert Vaughn stared at his phone in disbelief. "I can take a message if you like. I can't guarantee that she'll call you back in a timely manner. But I'm more than willing to take a message."
Perhaps it was the almost jovial tone the voice had at the end that set him off. Perhaps it was simply being denied that which he wanted. Either way, the smile on the man's face finally died and Bert Vaughn got angry. "Who the hell is this? What gives you the right to run roughshod over Aedan's life?" he demanded into the phone.
"My name, Mister Vaughn, is Ted Forrester. No doubt you've heard of me. I knew Anita," Edward answered, tone gone cold and clinical. Maybe Bert Vaughn knew who he was. Maybe he didn't. There was little chance to see it on the man's face. And, either way, it was irrelevant because Edward continued. This time, his tone was colder. Less clinical. More frightening. "And I have the right to run roughshod over Aedan's life, as you put it, because I'm blood. I am, in fact, the only living family she has. I do not like to see her so tired and run down. She needs sleep. As I'm sure her boyfriend has already told you." That sentence saw Vaughn's eyes lifting to stare at Jean-Claude. "Now. Did you want me to give her a message?"
"No. No message," Bert Vaughn said, his finger pressing the button to end the call. He continued to stare at Jean-Claude, as if uncertain how to handle this new information. It had obviously been more than his brain was capable of handling to find out that not only did Aedan have blood family willing to look out for her, but that she was also dating the Master of the City.
"As you can see, my interest in Aedan's well being is as much personal as it is professional," Jean-Claude began. "Not only is she a vitally important member of the preternatural community, she is my personal companion and I have a very vested interest in her continuing good health."
Bert Vaughn stared at him a few moments, his expression empty. But Jean-Claude had no doubt that the man's nimble brain was turning as he tried to find a tactic that would benefit him. "What about the people who are booked for appointments to see Aedan? They expect to meet with Anita Blake's protégé, you know."
"They will be disappointed," Jean-Claude replied, letting a touch of his anger fill his words. "Aedan is not a show dog. She does not perform on command. And she is not the next Anita Blake. Selling her to your clientele as such is a disservice to Aedan, as she is her own person, and to Anita's memory. She can never be replaced, and trying to convince your clients that Aedan is nothing more than a copy of Anita Blake is a bad business model."
"And you're not replacing Anita with Aedan?" the man asked, tone sly and accusatory. And perhaps, under it all, touched with desperation.
Jean-Claude let his anger come fully to the surface, let the man across the desk see it in his eyes and in his frown. Vaughn didn't pull back in his chair, but it was a close thing. "I am well aware of how my relationship with Aedan appears as to those who do not know us. I am also well aware of the fact that Aedan is no more Anita Blake than you or I. I value Aedan's companionship for who she is as a person. Not for who she could possibly be made to be. Or who others believe her to be."
There was no mistaking what he meant and who his words were for. Jean-Claude rose to his feet and stared down at the other man, his actions signaling the end of their conversation. For a moment, Bert Vaughn remained in his seat. Then he came to his feet and attempted to use his size to intimidate Jean-Claude. Jean-Claude could only smile at the attempt. The man had no real idea who he was dealing with. Or perhaps he'd simply forgotten. "Is she aware that you're trying to control her life?"
"If by control you mean keep her alive, then yes. She is aware. Do not think to imply that I forbid or deny Aedan anything. That is not how our relationship works. And do not think that she does not know my feelings where she is concerned. Or those I still have for Anita. She is well aware of them, as well. Allow me to suggest that you take the time she is off resting to examine why it is you feel the need to use her to turn a profit. Aedan is a human being. Not a party trick."
Jean-Claude headed for the door, making sure that the other man knew the conversation was over and he was not going to get his way. Jean-Claude stopped at the closed panel and turned to look at Bert Vaughn over his shoulder. "I will inform Aedan when she wakens that you would like her to call you. But calling you is her choice. Not mine. I suggest, in the meantime, you do not attempt to call her again. You will not be able to contact her that way. Have a good evening, Mister Vaughn."
The door closed behind him before Bert Vaughn even thought to open his mouth in protest. Jean-Claude looked at the Wicked Truth, standing silent guard outside the door, and nodded his head. They fell into place, one behind him on either side, and followed him up the hall. Jean-Claude heard the muttered curses from the office he'd just left and smiled to himself. Perhaps the man would learn that he could not treat people as commodities.
There was actually very little chance of that actually happening. Jean-Claude knew it as well as he knew how much Aedan hated being compared to Anita. Bert Vaughn was driven by money. He'd met so many people like that in his life. But one could always hope that the terminally greedy would learn a thing or two.
~*~
Edward was settled into a chair positioned next to Aedan's bed, watching the large television mounted on the wall without any sound. He looked tired. Worried. Human. It was an unusual look for him. And one Jean-Claude was not used to seeing. His gaze slid immediately to the figure curled up under the covers, only a flash of red hair to mark where her head rested on the pillows. Her face was tucked under the blankets. He found it to be an endearing trait, though he suspected it had come into existence through the fear of her father. Which made it a childish method of protecting herself. He had to wonder if it was an automatic thing because she was worn so thin. When he pulled his gaze away, Edward was regarding him silently.
"It went as well as you expected it would?" the man asked.
"Bert Vaughn is convinced I am trying to control what Aedan does. And he does not see how wrong he is in the comparison to Anita he continues to perpetrate. If he should call again, you may answer him as you like," he replied.
Edward nodded his head, then rose from his chair. "She'll be out the rest of the night. Part of tomorrow, too. The tranquilizers Lillian prescribed were strong enough to put an elephant down. She's going to be groggy and disoriented when she finally wakes up. Which means anyone looking after her will have loads of fun. I'll be back. I'm going to go to my hotel and catch some sleep. Call Donna and let her know that I'll be staying."
Jean-Claude nodded at that. "I appreciate you looking after her. I knew that things were bad, but not this bad. As usual, Aedan managed to hide the worst of it from me." Jean-Claude's tone made it clear that he didn't like her ability to do that one bit.
"Its a left over from her days with Solomon," he said, as if Jean-Claude had asked him a question. He regarded the other man with curiosity. That was news to him. Edward gave a sigh. "At least, I'm pretty sure it is. She hasn't told me anything about her life with the man. But I have no doubt that she developed really bad, really messed up coping methods while still living with him. Maybe this event will convince her that she can't keep locking this shit up."
Jean-Claude gave him a look filled with his skepticism. "Do you honestly believe that?"
Edward sighed, turning to stare at the figure huddled under the blankets for a moment. Finally, he shook his head. "Not one damn bit," he replied. "But I can hope."
"As can we all," Jean-Claude responded. Edward gave that a bit of thought, then nodded. Without another word, he headed for the door in order to make his escape. He'd just put his hand on the knob when Jean-Claude stopped him. "Thank you, Edward. For everything."
The blonde head dipped in a single nod of acknowledgement, then the man was out the door and Jean-Claude was alone with a slumbering Aedan. The urge to hold her in his arms, such as he'd had before after every catastrophe into the middle of which she'd put herself, rose up inside of him. It was strong and refused to be denied, despite being able to see her under the covers. Despite being able to hear the soft draw of breath as she inhaled and exhaled. And despite being able to hear the slow, steady thump of her heart in her chest that said she was completely at rest.
He shed his clothing quickly, leaving them to lay where they fell, then climbed into bed with the sleeping lump that was his human servant. Despite being drugged into a deep sleep, she shifted closer to him the moment she sensed his presence beside her. He rolled her onto her other side, tucking her curled figure up under his arm. Almost immediately, she settled her head on his chest and heaved a sigh of contentment.
He tightened his arm around her and spent several long moments just listening to her breathe.
The sound of the air slipping in and out of her lungs, so slow and easy, helped relieve some of the tension he felt. Tension that had been like a hard knot in his chest from the very moment Edward had practically carried Aedan through the door into the underground lair. She'd been nearly limp in his hold, only going through the motions out of sheer stubbornness. It had been obvious to one and all present that she'd hit the very outer edges of her limits.
Jean-Claude had gone to Edward and taken her, ignored her protests that she was okay and swung her up into his arms. Then he'd carried her to bed, ordering whoever was listening to call for Dr. Lillian. Aedan had argued half-heartedly the whole time, insisting she was okay and simply needed a moment to catch her breath. Of course he'd ignored the stupidity of that statement and taken her straight to her room. There'd been little argument when he'd settled her on the edge of the bed and started removing her clothes. And he'd been able to tell that it had taken everything she had to keep herself upright for a task that was normally simple.
He'd wanted to rage at her for her stupidity. He'd wanted to call her a fool and any other word that would describe her behavior recently to hammer home the point that she was merely human and she could not simply ignore her needs, no matter what her reasoning might be. He'd wanted to have a shouting match just to see some life fill her, to see fire burning in her eyes and to hear it singeing the back of her throat as she yelled back. He'd wanted to pull her into his arms and squeeze what little breath she had right out of her. He'd wanted to tie her down and never let her leave his sight again.
He'd been frightened. Very little frightened him anymore, but he'd been frightened. It was the same fear that had lived in him when Anita had been alive, when she'd been so irrevocably tied to himself and everyone around him. He'd worried constantly over what might happen to them if something happened to her. Over what could happen to her if something happened to him. And he'd experienced a mad rush of that fear when Edward had quite literally dragged Aedan into the lair the way he had. What would happen to him, to his people, if Aedan pushed herself too far? What would happen to his heart if he was to lose her?
He let his hands glide down the length of her spine. He could feel the bump of each vertebrae through her skin and her night shirt as he went, making him wonder if she was neglecting other areas of self care. Heaving a sigh, he realized that was a stupid thing to ponder. Of course she was neglecting herself. She gave so much of herself to everyone else that she had nothing left over at the end. Hadn't she sacrificed herself to the demon and its summoner to keep Rhiannon and the people of St. Louis safe? Hadn't she done the exact same thing for him? And now she was giving her all to a half-sister because she felt guilt over the child's parentage. Because she felt she owed the girl something for not saving her from the horror that was Carter Solomon.
They were going to need to talk. He knew she understood, perhaps only in an abstract way, that she had to take care of herself. But he didn't think she really knew what that meant. What kind of childhood had she had? What kind of life did she live with Carter Solomon and his brood that she felt as if she needed to give everything of herself?
He was pulled from his thoughts by a light tap at the door. Odd. He hadn't heard or sensed anyone approaching. Which said he'd been too deep in his thoughts for his own good. "Come," he called, shifting Aedan away so that her head rested on the other pillow. He was just hauling himself up into a sitting position when the door opened to allow Minette into the room. She cast an apprehensive glance toward the bed, as if afraid she'd disturb her friend. He offered Minette a smile and beckoned her closer.
"How is she?" Minette asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper. She closed the distance between herself and the bed, her gaze locked to the spot where he knew Aedan's head rested. "She looks terrible."
Jean-Claude smiled at her. "That would be your answer."
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to disturb you. I just wanted to check in and make sure everything was okay," Minette said, the words tumbling out in a rush. As if she was afraid to spend any more time in his presence than necessary. Jean-Claude considered it a moment.
"You are not disturbing anything, Minette," he assured her and watched as some tension slid out of her shoulders. Curious. Did she think he would blame her for Aedan's state? It seemed he needed to make sure she knew that he placed no blame on her shoulders. "In fact, I am glad you are here."
"You are?" she asked, a hint of surprise and disbelief in her voice. He was reminded of the timid kitten she'd been when she'd first come to St. Louis. Over the months, he had seen less and less of that shy creature. But there were times, like now, when he would catch glimpses of who Minette had been.
"Yes. I would like to speak with you, if you have no objections," he told her. Minette stared a moment or two, as if she was trying to figure out what he wanted to talk about or as if she didn't believe him, then finally nodded her head.
"No. No objections," she said, her gaze sliding toward Aedan again.
"We will not wake her so you have no need to worry on that account. Dr. Lillian gave her something to ensure she sleeps," he assured her. He slid from the bed, unconcerned with how she would perceive his nudity, and motioned toward the couch on the other side of the room. Minette headed for it, giving him time to scoop up his jeans and slide into them before joining her. Her gaze shifted nervously toward Aedan time and again before he joined her. "I swear to you she will be fine, Minette. You truly have no reason to worry."
"Sorry," she stammered, as if feeling guilty at being caught.
"I, too, am worried about her. She has been behaving recklessly. She was fortunate that Edward was with her or I shudder to think what might have happened," Jean-Claude settled himself on the couch beside her and took a moment to study her face. She didn't look apprehensive, but he got the sense that she was waiting for him to say something harsh. Perhaps to lay the blame for her friend's erratic behavior at her feet. He reached out and took hold of a hand, lifting it to press a kiss against the back of it. "She is also lucky to have such a steadfast friend," he offered.
"Some friend I am. I didn't even know she was so close to the edge," Minette said, tone filled with bitter self-loathing. And it was exactly the kind of opening he needed to begin the conversation he wanted to have with her.
"Nor did I. And I am supposed to be her lover, am I not?" he responded, making sure she heard a touch of his own guilt in his words. Minette stared at him a moment. He could see that she was apprehensive. Maybe she thought he was trying to trap her. "She keeps so much of herself hidden away from me. Even after all this time. I was unaware she capable of driving herself so far."
"Aedan has always been intense," Minette told him.
"But this intense?" he questioned.
The woman sitting beside him shrugged a shoulder negligently, as if that was the answer to his question. Then she sighed and shook her head. "I never saw her get this intense. It took a lot of time for her to relax enough around me to laugh and tell jokes and have fun. She was never like that with the people we went to school with. She was always guarded with them."
"She never let anyone in?" he asked softly. His gaze flicked to where Aedan slept as he considered what Minette had told him.
"Only me," Minette admitted. Jean-Claude took time to consider that, too.
"Perhaps because you were not a threat to her security?" he suggested.
It was Minette's turn to consider his words. She finally shook her head, a faint frown drawing her brows down. "I don't think so. I think its because she saw a kindred spirit. Maybe. When Aedan and I met, we kind of clicked right away. I mean, of course she knew what I was and it didn't bother her one bit. In fact, I think she preferred it over any of the normal people at school. Then when she realized I was... damaged..." Minette's words trailed off as if she was embarrassed by speaking them. Jean-Claude reached a hand out to pat hers. It was meant to be reassuring. He wasn't sure how Minette took it because she remained silent for quite some time. Finally, she cleared her throat and turned her attention to the bed. "When she realized that I was damaged, we grew closer. Like I said. I think she saw me as a kindred spirit. And she pulled the story from me. All of it. In one night. Over a bottle of really cheap wine and a box of Poptarts."
Minette paused, the memory bringing forth a soft smile. Her gaze slid back to the bed and she stared at Aedan for several silent moments. "She vowed then and there that she would kill Bruce for me. For every harm he visited upon me, she would visit the same harm in return." Minette fell silent, bringing her gaze back to his face. There was something akin to apprehension and no small amount of fear in her gaze. "At the time, I didn't think she really meant it. Not the way she said she'd do it. I mean, I know she meant it. Because she got all intense and stoic. You know how she gets when she's vowing to do something. But I just thought she meant she'd find some way to kill him and that would be the end of it."
"You do not think so now?" he asked, prodding her to continue. It seemed as if they'd get further in their conversation if he simply let her talk and only occasionally nudged her in the direction he wanted it to go.
"Now, after hearing about the things she did to Vittorio and his people. After seeing how she took on the demon all by herself, knowing that it would likely result in her death... Now, I think she meant it exactly as she said it. That she would have happily done to Bruce every thing he'd done to me over the years. A pain for a pain. I think she would have really, really hurt him. And then she would have killed him."
"I have often times felt her sense of loyalty is quite... complicated," he admitted."I was unaware that it ran so deep."
"I told you. Aedan has always been intense. But I have never seen her like this before," Minette replied. Her tension was starting to ease up, leaving her tongue less guarded.
"Did you ever discover where such intensity came from?" he asked.
She shook her head. "She never told me anything about her life before college. At first, I asked questions. But she would divert the conversation. Until she finally told me to never ask her about her family because she would never tell me anything. Her tone was so cold and so curt." Minette drifted off into thought for a moment. "But I think, looking back on it now, that there was hurt there, too. I just didn't know her as well as I do now, so I couldn't see it."
"Odd. She made it clear to one and all that she wanted nothing to do with Carter Solomon," he responded, slipping into thought. "Yet you say she was hurt. Do you think that perhaps she was hurt by the treatment she was subjected to by Carter Solomon and his family?"
Minette considered it. For a good, long while. Finally, she gave a slow nod. "I think maybe she was."
"Did she ever tell you anything about him or about how he treated her?"
"No. She refused to talk about it at all. She kept that part of her life closed off. I didn't know anything about it until a few months ago. When she told everyone about him. I cannot imagine what her life with that monster was like."
"Do you think it is possible that the way he treated her is the reason behind her intensity?"
"I wouldn't be surprised if it was. I think he did a serious number on her. Him and his ilk. I've never seen her truly relaxed. Even now, after being here for so long, with him dead and you in her life, she still isn't fully relaxed. Almost as if she's waiting for something to happen."
Jean-Claude thought it was perhaps exactly what was going on. He got the impression that Aedan had never had a terribly stable home life. She'd gone from Carter Solomon's tender care to Edward's. And then she'd more or less ended up bound to a life she'd likely never considered having because Anita had been so determined to keep her family safe. He turned over what little he'd learned, slotting it into the limited picture he had of the woman he and his people were tied to. It did not fill much in and he was in the process of trying to decide how to approach Aedan about it when Minette's voice brought him out of his thoughts.
"You're sure she's going to be okay?" she asked quietly. He could hear the fear in her words, and the lingering threads of guilt.
"She will be fine. We will all see to it," he replied. Minette nodded and rose from the couch. "I should go. I'm tired and I've been worried... I just had to check on her before I went to bed. I had to make sure."
"Go. Seek your rest. I will not leave her alone until I have to seek out my own rest. And I will see to it that there is someone with her at all times until we are certain she has regained all of her strength," he said, making it a vow. Minette nodded and started for the door. He could see the hesitance in her movements, as if she was afraid to leave her friend for fear something might happen. But she continued to the door, opened it silently, and slipped into the hall. The latch clicked shut quietly and he was again alone with Aedan.
Rising from the couch, Jean-Claude crossed to the bed and once more stripped off his jeans. He climbed up onto the mattress next to her, settling himself on the pillows before pulling her close. Aedan snuggled up to him, letting go a soft sigh as she settled her head against his shoulder. He sighed, too, though his was less in contentment and more in confusion. He still didn't know anything and he was starting to think, short of forcing her to tell him, that he never would.
Women. Why were they so complicated?
~*~*~*~*~
"Rhiannon? Rhiannon, are you listening?" The question cut across her thoughts, pulling her back to the comfortable couch settled across from the plush leather chair in Doctor Tilson's nicely appointed office. Rhia blinked and looked up to find that the therapist was eyeing her with concern. "Are you okay, Rhiannon? Were you caught up in memories? You were very distracted."
"Oh, no. Not memories," Rhia assured her. In fact, she hadn't had much trouble on the memory front recently. The therapy sessions were really helping. The few times she'd frozen when Nathaniel had touched her had ended with discussion instead of apologies and guilt.
Doctor Tilson gave her a look that clearly said she didn't believe her. "Are you sure? One moment, you were talking about how Nathaniel has been handling the lingering issues you have with intimacy, the next you were simply... elsewhere."
Rhia frowned. She hoped 'elsewhere' wasn't code for a vision. She knew that her eyes clouded over when her visions came. She'd been told by several people on more than one occasion that they did. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to mentally wander off like that," Rhia said. And she hadn't. The last thing she remembered saying was that Nathaniel was amazing and was finding ways to initiate intimacy without getting naked. That he was going out of his way to find non-triggering ways to be intimate with her. And that thought had somehow led her down the rabbit hole that was the current situation at the Circus.
Namely, a crisis named Aedan Kinkade.
Of course she was worried about Aedan. How could she not be worried about her friend? She had heard from several sources that Aedan had pushed herself well past exhaustion. She'd even heard that Edward had had to carry her down into the lair because she hadn't been able to remain on her own two feet. Rhia hadn't been there when that event had happened, had been sleeping because the pregnancy was draining from her what little energy she had. But she'd heard from Jason just how bad the other woman had looked. And how worried Jean-Claude was about it all.
"Are you sure?" Doctor Tilson asked again. It was a tactic the woman used to ensure that her clients weren't deflecting when they didn't want to talk about something. In the beginning, it had annoyed Rhia to no end. But that was no longer an issue now that she understood what Doctor Tilson was trying to accomplish.
"I am absolutely sure. I'm really fine. I promise. I'm just... concerned. About a friend," Rhia told her. Concerned wasn't really the right word. Freaked out might work better. Or something even stronger. But she'd settled on concern because she really didn't want to freak her therapist out. She wasn't sure how up on the preternatural world Doctor Tilson was.
"Just concerned?" the woman asked, shifting positions in her chair. She set her notepad and pen down, giving her full attention to Rhia. "This feels like more than simple concern. Tell my why you're worried about this friend."
"My worry for my friend isn't why I'm here, though," Rhia responded. She was supposed to be dealing with her trauma. Not talking about someone else.
"Your worry for your friend can impact your mental health. Which will, in turn, impact how our sessions work for you. I don't want to see you lose1 the progress you've made," Doctor Tilson informed her.
Rhia wanted to protest that it wasn't her story to tell, that it wasn't the reason she was in therapy. But the look on the other woman's face suggested she wasn't going to accept any excuses. Rhia sighed softly and shook her head, trying to figure out where to start. She finally decided that she should make sure the good doctor knew what she was talking about before she talked about it. "How much do you know about the preternatural community and all it entails?"
The question seemingly threw the woman off her game for a few seconds, because she only stared at Rhia. Blinked a couple times in what Rhia was sure was confusion. To be honest, it was kind of an out of the blue way to start a discussion. Doctor Tilson was silent for a few moments, obviously considering how to answer, before she drew a breath and shook her head. "Not much, I'm afraid. I know that vampires exist, as do werewolves. But I don't really know specifics."
"There are more shifters than just werewolves," Rhia assured her, bringing a startled look to the woman's face. "I'll give you a quick primer, because it is vital to understanding my worry. You know vampires exist. What you may not know is that each one possesses a certain level of power. It can increase with age so that the older a vampire gets, the more power they can have. Some attain what is called master status. Some don't."
"Master status. Like the Master of the City?" Doctor Tilson asked curiously.
"Yes. Jean-Claude is a master vampire. And it is that status, the power he's gained, that helps him maintain his position as Master of the City. He more or less lords over the preternatural community here in St. Louis. All of the vampires, every group of lycanthropes, all the witches, the psychics, and any other group with supernatural gifts that lives here essentially answers to him."
"You... know the Master of the City?" Doctor Tilson asked, sounding like she was genuinely shocked by that knowledge.
"Quite well," Rhia confirmed.
"And this friend you're worried about. Is it the Master of the City?" The question was spoken in such a way that Rhia was sure that the woman didn't really know what to believe.
"No. Not Jean-Claude. Aedan Kinkade. His human servant," Rhia told her.
Doctor Tilson blinked at that. "Your friend is a vampire's servant?" There was concern in the therapist's voice, letting Rhia know that she didn't know what a human servant was. Not surprising. Most people without a toe in the community didn't understand such things.
"Yes. But not in the way you're thinking. Their lives are tied to one another. Bound to one another. Not through enslavement, but through mystical means. There are perks for both the human and the vampire, but there are also drawbacks for both, as well. The title human servant is really kind of misleading because anyone bound to a vampire has total control over their life. The vampire can't force them to do anything they don't want to do. They're more like a glorified daytime secretary for a vampire." Rhia almost chuckled at the face Aedan would make if she heard anyone describe her as Jean-Claude's secretary.
"Okay. So your friend, a woman bound to the Master of the City through magical means, is in crisis. Is that correct?" Doctor Tilson had put her therapist voice back on, meaning she was all business. Rhia nodded her head.
"Crisis is a mild description, I think," Rhia told her.
"What's going on with her? Why does it have you so concerned?"
"Aedan is a necromancer. She works for Animators, Inc." Rhia paused a moment, waiting to see if the other woman recognized the name.
"Animators, Inc. is the company that specializes in raising zombies, right? Anita Blake used to work for them until her death," Doctor Tilson said.
"That's correct. Aedan kind of... inherited much of Anita's life." Inherited wasn't the right word, but Rhia didn't think trying to explain to the woman that Anita had essentially magically mind fucked Aedan would go over well. "She took over as Jean-Claude's human servant. She took over at Animators, Inc. She took over consulting with the St. Louis police department. She's a Federal Marshal. She's a licensed vampire hunter. Her list of titles is kind of extensive."
Doctor Tilson frowned at that. "I don't think extensive is the word I'd use. Over the top would suit better. Or unreal. That would be a good description." Rhia nodded. Insane was another word she might use for Aedan's list of titles. But she kept that one to herself because she was fairly certain her therapist would take offense to the term. "How does she do it?"
"I don't think she does," Rhia replied. Doctor Tilson studied her a moment, then gave a brief nod of her head.
"She's stretched too thin."
Rhia considered the phrase and finally shook her head. "Not stretched. Scraped. She's been scraped too thin. She has been for some time. When she first came to St. Louis, she had three different murder investigations to deal with. One of them was far more personal than I think she liked and it left scars. Some of our friends were almost killed. Every one hoped, when the last one was solved, that she would have a chance to relax. But it wasn't to be. There is so much going on that she's given her attention to that she takes no time for herself. And now there are a new set of murders going on and..."
Rhia trailed off, prompting Doctor Tilson to look up from her notes. "And?" she prodded gently.
"There's stuff she hasn't told anyone. About her childhood. There's some kind of trauma there. Any mention of her life before she came to St. Louis sees her just shutting down. Or she gets so angry that I'm afraid she'll hurt someone."
"You're afraid she'll hurt herself," Doctor Tilson said matter-of-factly. Rhia frowned and shook her head.
"I don't think she'd do it intentionally. But she gets so mad that she's likely to go do something stupid. And then she can get hurt." Rhia took a moment to consider what to tell the woman, hoping that Doctor Tilson wouldn't ask her what kind of stupid things Aedan would be likely to do. "As if all that isn't bad enough, she's so loyal and protective of her friends, her found family, that she will willingly put herself in harm's way to keep them safe."
"She's done so for you," Doctor Tilson observed, pen scratching almost silently across the pad of paper she held. "Your body language gives it away."
"She nearly got killed because she was trying to protect me." Doctor Tilson didn't need to know that Rhia would have died if she'd done what she'd originally planned. She also didn't need to know that, technically, Aedan had gotten killed trying to protect her. That was not a thing she wanted to discuss in therapy for days to come. "She took on a demon and it almost cost her her life. And that's not the only time she's done something like that. She confronted the people who were kidnapping, torturing, and killing lycanthropes. She took on the large group of people who murdered Anita Blake. Its like she feels she's got something to prove to the world."
The pen had stopped moving and Doctor Tilson was watching her with a faint frown on her face. It pulled the corners of her mouth down, formed wrinkles in her forehead. "You're talking about the demon and lycanthrope murders from a few months ago."
"Yes," Rhia nodded, not really surprised that the woman knew exactly what she was talking about.
"Rhiannon, I work with the therapist the police have on staff. I've seen some of the crime scene photos. I know what kind of horrors were found at those scenes. Your friend saw them? All of them?"
"She did. Including the last one the demon was responsible for. There were so many children there. So many people who died. And Aedan saw it all."
Doctor Tilson set her pen and pad of paper down on the table beside her. "Has your friend found a therapist?"
"No. She bottles it up. Sometimes she doesn't sleep or eat for days because the dreams are so bad. Add that to her various jobs and the commitments she's made to various people and organizations... I don't know how she goes on." Rhia shook her head and glanced at the wall, her mind going back to what she'd been told about Aedan's return the other night and how bad things had been. "She's hit her stopping point, though. I know she was brought home the other night, pretty much incapable of moving on her own. Someone had to help her home. I know that her doctor gave her something to make her sleep because she was so wiped out. I just didn't know she was so close the edge and I don't know how she does it. I don't know how to help her and keep her from killing herself."
"Rhiannon, you can't help her. Based on what you've told me, she needs to see someone who specializes in trauma. Because your friend has run from one trauma to another. She cannot continue to do so without serious consequences." Doctor Tilson shook her head and gave everything she'd been told deep consideration. "Without having talked to her, I would hazard a guess that there's some unresolved trauma from her childhood and that it is the reason she acts the way she does. She thinks the trauma is normal, so she pushes it aside and continues on. Until she can't anymore, because there's simply too much trauma bottled up inside her head. You need to convince her that she should find a therapist. Her health depends on it. And so does yours. Worrying about her will make you ill."
"We've told her more than once that she needs to speak to someone about everything. And I think she knows that she really needs to. She just doesn't know how to ask for the help she needs. She's very used to doing everything for herself."
Doctor Tilson sighed. "Make her understand that she cannot let it continue to compound. She will break under the burden and that won't be pretty. At the very least, she might end up in a mental health facility. At worst, she could develop a life-long psychosis that will impede her ability to do anything." Though her tone was gentle, the meaning behind them was not. Aedan needed to get help or she was going to seriously fuck up her life. And everyone else's alone with it.
"I'll do what I can," Rhia nodded, though she didn't think there was much hope of convincing Aedan to do anything. Her hands rubbed her belly in a familiar motion, felt the swell of her baby bump, and took comfort in it. It was an absent action, one that she did countless times a day. The feel of her gently swelling belly was soothing, somehow managing to help calm her when her emotions got away from her.
Doctor Tilson smiled softly. "How's the little one doing?" she asked.
"So far, I think everything is fine. We have an appointment to see the ob/gyn next week. She's going to do a sonogram," Rhia told her.
"Are you going to find out what your baby's gender will be?" Doctor Tilson asked, her smile growing a little brighter and wider.
"Nathaniel wants to know," Rhia began, doing her best to hold back the sigh. "But I don't. It doesn't matter to me. I just want a healthy, happy baby. That's the only thing that's really important to me." Rhia considered explaining that she hated the idea that people should start pushing labels on a baby before it even made its first appearance in the world, but she shook the idea off. There was no reason to get into that discussion, because she wasn't sure explaining the concept of gender as a social construct was something that was supposed to fall into her therapy sessions. "We'll see if I change my mind before the appointment."
"In my experience, anyone who doesn't want to know the gender of their child usually continues to not want to know right up until birth. Given how determined you are, Rhiannon, I think the chances of you changing your mind are slim to none," Doctor Tilson replied, tone mild and amused.
Rhia gave her a smile and shook her head. "That should be enough, yes. But you do not know just how determined Nathaniel can be."
The other woman stared at her a moment or two before giving a single nod, a wry smile on her lips. "I see. A battle of wills. It should be interesting to find out just which one of you ends up the victor." Then she reached for her pad of paper and pen once more and she shifted in her seat, taking up the posture that told Rhia she was going to start asking questions. Rhia held on to her sigh and reminded herself that she wasn't here to keep things in. Doctor Tilson was doing her best to help Rhia with the slowly healing wounds left behind by her trauma. "Now. Before we had the discussion about your friend, you were telling me about how Nathaniel was working toward non-threatening instance of intimacy. Let's get back to that, shall we?"
Rhia held on to her sigh and gave a nod. It was going to be a long session.
~*~*~*~*~
"How long was I out?" Aedan's voice was soft and filled with sleep. He glanced away from the television to find her staring at him expectantly. Strands of hair had pulled from the braid someone had worked it into, giving her a wispy, fiery halo. Her eyes were still heavy with sleep, pupils wide enough that her irises were thin rings around them. No doubt a side effect of the drugs used to help her rest. There was color in her cheeks once more and the big black circles that had taken up residence under her eyes were greatly diminished. He felt she could have slept longer, but Jean-Claude had made the decision to cut back on the sleeping pills that Dr. Lillian had given them for her.
"It has been just over eighty hours since Edward brought you home and Jean-Claude put you to bed," he told her.
"Three days?" she asked, seeming utterly unfazed by the news. "Who supplied the drugs? Edward or Dr. Lillian?"
"The latter is responsible for keeping you in bed," he said.
"Good to know. Because when Bert calls me having kittens about how much work I'm missing, I'm going to give him her number and let him try to take it out on her," Aedan said, bringing herself up into a sitting position. The blankets pooled in her lap, exposing the plain grey cotton t-shirt Jean-Claude had put her in just before putting her in bed.
"Jean-Claude has already spoken with Mr. Vaughn." The announcement saw her frowning at him.
"Jean-Claude spoke to Bert?" she asked.
"He did. He informed the man that you were going to be out for the whole week. Possibly longer," he replied. He watched as she closed her eyes for a few moments, as if she was counting to ten in her head, before opening them again and frowning at him.
"I'm going to have to have a talk with him," she muttered, a touch of heat in her voice.
"He was well within his rights. He was protecting your best interests since you seem unwilling to protect them yourself." There must have been more of his anger in his voice than he'd intended because Aedan gave him a look that plainly said she was possibly a little uneasy. He regretted making her uneasy, but he wasn't going to apologize. She'd scared everyone and his anger was justified. She was silent a moment, making him think that she was winding up to tear into him.
"I think you're being a little harsh, Asher," she began instead, voice steady and even. He drew a breath meant to calm himself, his temper flaring at her obvious intent to insist that she hadn't physically been at the end of her rope. It didn't help because if there was one thing Aedan was good at, it was trying the patience of the saints.
"You were unable to bring yourself home after dealing with Tina's accidental zombies. It would normally be nothing for you to take control of a few zombies and bend them to your will. But you could not do something so simple without overtaxing your pitiful reserves of energy. You have been spreading yourself too thin lately, Aedan. You must take care of yourself."
"I know, I know," she said, words tumbling out with an edge of snide mockery to them. "Too many lives depend upon my being healthy. I've heard it all before."
Asher took a moment to try and push his anger aside. Shouting at her had proven to be less than effective and the last thing he planned on doing was put her on the offensive. And she was right. She had heard it all before. Many, many times. Perhaps it was time to try a different avenue of persuasion. "While it is true that the health of many members of the community are directly tied to your continued good health, that isn't the only reason you should take care of yourself."
Aedan gave him a look that suggested she had already made the decision to ignore whatever he said as unimportant. Asher tried to find his patience again, his temper too easy to rile on the best of days. "Enlighten me."
"You should take care of yourself because there are those of us who love you and do not wish to see you so worn down," he responded, voice soft. His words had the desired effect. The rebellion that had been lurking in her gaze was gone in an instant and she gave him a look brimming with contrition.
"I'm sorry," she said, voice a whisper. The apology was instant and sincere. "I forget."
No two words could have made his heart ache any more than those two words did. It was an absolutely incredible notion to him that someone would forget that there were people who loved them. And it shouldn't have, because hadn't he done the very same thing himself all those years ago? "Perhaps we should spend more time reminding you that you are loved. That we love you and that we care about what happens to you."
Aedan slid from the bed and padded over to the chair he occupied. It'd been moved up beside the bed so that the people who had volunteered to keep an eye on her while she slept could be close at hand if she'd needed something. She leaned forward and dropped a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth. "You won't believe me but this is all still so very new to me. Its easy to forget that there are people out there who do actually give a shit about what happens to me."
Asher rose from his seat so that he could wrap his arms around her and hug her close. "You should not have to remember that people care.That should have been something you knew from birth." He punctuated his statement with a chaste kiss on her lips. "But that is no reason for you to work yourself into exhaustion. You have spread yourself too thin, and your commitments are wearing you out."
Aedan frowned at him a moment, then shook her head. "What am I supposed to do? Say no to people who need my help? Ignore a sibling in need of my specific knowledge? Turn down clients? Tell the police I can't come to their crime scene because I'm too tired?"
Asher studied her a moment, considering his words carefully. It would be too easy to make his case the wrong way and upset her. It was amazing just how volatile Aedan's temper could be at times. He had his own theories as to why that was, most of which came down to the fact that she'd never had the opportunity to be angry as a child. Nor had she been given the opportunity to love or be happy or any of those other emotions that normal children got to experience. He suspected, based on what little he knew of her parentage and her childhood, that she had spent much of her time being frightened and sad.
"Perhaps that is something you should consider, cherie," he said, using it to open up the topic to discussion. Aedan blinked at him, as if she didn't understand what he was suggesting. He took hold of her hand and started for the couch that sat up against the far wall in what he thought of as her entertaining area. She followed silently, settling lightly on the cushion next to him only after he patted it with one hand.
It pained him to see how... careful she was when around him. As if she was uncertain what she was and wasn't allowed to do. Granted, their relationship was still relatively new. And there had been no discussions of boundaries and limitations as of yet. But he couldn't help feeling near blinding rage at the people who had played mother and father to her because they'd given her an education that consisted only of mistrust and fear.
"Explain," she said. It was a blunt order that reminded him of Edward far more than he was comfortable with. Asher did his best to ignore it and do as she'd told him.
"You are pulled in far too many directions. There simply is not enough of you to go around and so you sacrifice too much energy in an effort to meet all of these obligations. You leave nothing for yourself."
Aedan stared at him a moment. "And which obligation do I ignore?"
"I do not mean you should ignore an obligation. I mean you should eliminate an obligation." He wasn't sure if she was being intentionally dense or if she honestly didn't get what he was driving at. He put it down to the sleeping pills. No doubt they'd made it difficult for her to process information rapidly.
"Eliminate one? Like what? Drop my sister? Quit my job?" The scoffing sound she made let him know what she thought of the idea.
"Which one requires more of your time and energy than the others?" he asked in all seriousness.
Aedan obviously hadn't expected such a response because she blinked at him in confusion. But her face took on a distant look, telling him she was giving the question the honest consideration it deserved. It was several moments before she answered him. "Animators, Inc. That takes so much time and energy. I'm always meeting with clients. Always trying to determine if they really need my help or if they're playing tourist and getting their jollies by meeting with Anita Blake's protégé or whatever it is they want to call me. There are always too many raisings. Any outside thing that comes up results in the headache of rescheduling meetings or raisings or whatever. I always have to be careful about how I present myself to clients. Its exhausting always having to monitor myself."
"Then perhaps you should quit that job."
"Quit that job," she echoed, a faint sense of wonder in her voice. As if she'd never thought of it before. "You make it sound so easy."
"Is it not?"
Aedan stared at him, her eyes filled with wonder and confusion as they warred for control. "I... don't know. I never gave it consideration. I never thought--" She trailed off, obviously shocked by the mere suggestion.
"Why did you not give it consideration?" he asked, studying her face intently. Aedan frowned a bit, and her cheeks pinked up, letting him know that, whatever the reason, it embarrassed her. "Did it honestly never occur to you? Or did you not think it was an option?"
She glanced at the wall, her gaze taking on a far away look. He was fairly certain that she had slipped into memory. And whatever she was remembering brought a deep frown to her face. "I didn't think it was an option. I thought, when I made that damn promise, that it meant I was supposed to take on all of her obligations as my own. So I took over her job with Animators. And I took over consulting with the police. And I... I just took over. I didn't think I was allowed to let something slip out of my fingers."
"Aedan," Asher began, hands reaching out to cup her cheeks. Gentle pressure saw her turning to look at him. He could see in her eyes that she honestly hadn't thought she'd had the option of letting something go. "Cherie. Anita did not mean for you to become her. She simply made you promise to take care of the people she loved. And you have done that. You have done that so well that it nearly cost you your life. You cannot be everything to everyone. You must leave something for yourself."
She stared at him, eyes wide with the revelation she'd just had. "I'll consider it. But if I did quit, what would I do? For a job, I mean. What work would I do?"
"You are already a consultant for the police. And a Federal Marshal. Do you not think those take up enough of your time? What else do you think you need to do?" he questioned. Asher had to wonder how his suggestion that she consider giving up one of her obligations had brought her to the thought that she needed to merely switch it for another.
"Maybe I could become a consultant. I could pick my clients. I could set limits as to what I will and won't do. And I could set my own rate of pay. I could make this tie I have to Anita work for me instead of against me," she said slowly, as if the idea was still forming in her head. "I don't know. I'll have to think about it. Maybe talk to everyone and see what they think." She fell silent a moment while Asher's mind reeled from the way Aedan's seemed to work. Then she glanced at him and he swore he could see her mentally switching gears.
"You know about fashion, right?" she asked. The leap from talking about work to talking about clothes was seemingly random, but he knew that there was a good reason for the question. "I need some advice on fashion and I don't want to ask Jean-Claude because I don't want him to think I'm pathetic when it comes to things like that."
The last of her statement was delivered with a healthy dose of embarrassment. "I doubt Jean-Claude would think you pathetic, cherie, but I will answer your questions. If I know the answers."
She shot him a look that told him she had less faith in Jean-Claude than he did, but she said nothing on the subject. Instead, she drew a breath as she worked up her courage. "What kind of dress does one wear to a charitable ball?"
"A charitable ball? I suppose that depends on the statement one wishes to make upon entry," he replied steadily. "Why do you ask?"
"Jean-Claude got invited to this charitable ball and I need to find something to wear. The last thing we went to, he picked out my dress." He remembered the dress. It had been lovely and Aedan had looked beautiful in it. He also remembered that Aedan had been attacked in that dress and the police had taken it for evidence.
"What is the charity?" The type of charity would help him decide what kind of evening attire she should purchase for the event.
"Actually, I don't know. The invitation didn't say. Just listed the group holding the event and called it a charitable ball," Aedan responded.
"What is the name of the group? That might help us narrow the choices down." Some charities were old and stodgy and required their donors to dress accordingly.
"The Anubis Foundation," she told him casually. Asher went still in the blink of an eye. It was the last thing he'd expected to hear her say.
"Aedan," he began. Surely she didn't think that Jean-Claude would go to an event hosted by the Anubis Foundation? He'd have to be mad to even consider doing such a thing. She looked up at him and offered him a soft smile that did nothing to make him feel better.
"Don't worry, Asher. I know the Anubis Foundation is a front for the vampires' version of a Nazi party or whatever. I know they're not a good group. Which is why Jean-Claude is taking me. So I can figure out what kind of bad stuff they're up to. Figure it out and put a stop to it."
"The Anubis Foundation is nothing to play around with, Aedan. They are ruthless and dangerous. They do not like humans and will only barely tolerate a vampire's human servant. You would make a target of yourself the moment you stepped through the door." And hadn't they just been talking about her tendency to do that?
"Why do you think we're going?" she asked steadily. Gone was the sleepiness that had clung when she'd first woken, that had come from the use of sleeping pills to help her regain her energy. In its place was ruthlessness and determination. He found he did not like how those traits looked on her.
"I do not think you understand how horrible a group The Anubis Foundation is," he told her softly.
"Jean-Claude told me all about them. And we both find it curious that they'd invite him to one of their events. The entire world knows who he is and they all know he's the vampire world's favorite son. We're going to go to find out what they've got planned. Because they've obviously got something planned." She sounded so calm about it all. She had no idea. None at all.
"Jean-Claude knows a watered down version of who and what the Anubis Foundation is. He does not know the real story." His words saw her staring at him hard. He could tell she was trying to find the meaning behind his words. And he knew if she didn't figure it out on her own, she would start questioning him. If there was one quality that Aedan had in abundance, it was determination. She would question him about this and she wouldn't let up until she had her answers.
She stared for several tense moments, then she sat back against the couch. Her arms crossed under her chest and her expression became intent. "Explain." That single word held all the authority she had, the same kind of authority he'd heard in Edward's voice time and again. But it also held something else. Compulsion. It wasn't a compulsion that would work on Asher, or any other vampire who had amassed power, but it would work on lesser vampires. Normal humans would have little chance of resisting it.
He had to wonder if she knew she possessed that power.
"Whatever Jean-Claude told you about the Anubis Foundation, it is barely a scratch on the surface. They are intent on destroying the world as we know it and reshaping it into their own image. They are willing to wipe out entire cities to get their way. Murder is not below them. Violence is an aphrodisiac. They believe humans are little more than cattle to feed upon as they please. They care little for the rules of humanity. And the care even less for the rules of the vampire council."
Aedan frowned for a moment, her eyes narrowing on him. "You were a member."
There was so much accusation in her tone that it hurt. But he couldn't deny her words. "It was a very dark time in my life, Aedan. I thought that the Anubis Foundation could give me the things I had lost."
She considered his words a moment, then frowned. "Family. It was after Julianna's death, wasn't it? You lost her. You lost Jean-Claude. You were angry. You thought they'd make a good replacement family." She fell silent a moment. When she spoke again, there was a bluntness to her words that made them that much sharper and more cutting. "You didn't participate in any of that murder you say they're fond of, did you?"
"It was a long time ago, Aedan. I was a different person. It was a different time. There were no laws against such things."
She gave him a flat look. "Did you kill people recklessly because your new family said it was okay to do so?" This time, there was a touch of coldness in her voice.
"I did not," he replied. "I realized quickly enough that the vampires who founded the Anubis Foundation were mad and delusional. My love for Julianna was still deep. Despite the pain of loss and the anger that ate at me, I realized that there was nothing that the Anubis Foundation could give me. I was not a part of their group for very long. Which is a good thing, because the group was hunted down and destroyed by order of the council shortly after I left them."
The wheels started turning before he'd even finished speaking. "You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"
"It was the reason I ended up back in the council's good graces," he admitted. He reached out and took hold of Aedan's hands, lifted them to press kisses to her palms. "You must trust me when I say the Anubis Foundation will mean you harm. You are little more than fodder to them. You must not go to this event."
"They're planning something. Sometime specifically to do with Jean-Claude. Otherwise, there would be no reason to invite him." He heard in her voice that he would not be able to change her mind. "I have to go, Asher. I have to protect my family."
She reached out a hand and pressed it to his cheek, stroked the tips of her fingers against his skin softly. "All of my family."
Asher sighed deeply, resignation settling into his chest like a lead weight. Nothing good would come from Aedan prying into the affairs of the Anubis Foundation. But he would not be able to sway her. So he would have to do the next best thing. "If you are determined to attend this event, I will have to teach you everything I know. Because I, too, must protect my family.
(no subject)
Date: 2020-09-04 05:10 am (UTC)I must say, Aedan is one stubborn beyotch, isn't she? Sheesh. Damn near gets her death from exhaustion and she's going to the AF ball in protect mode - is she a glutton for punishment or what? LOL Love her though!
And I have to wonder if you've ever been in therapy because the scene with Rhia was so spot on, clinician wise. How do you do this shit, man? You're not Catholic, yet there's good ol' Mary M who is SO in character it's amazing, and now the therapist who's so much like the one i had downstate it makes me shudder a little....just...wow. LOL
I think my favorite part (although the whole chapter is awesome, of course) is Vaughn with Jean Claude, and the call with Edward. I had a great time imagining Vaughn's facial expressions! :)
Great read as usual and as usual I hate you and your awesome writing ability!! ;) xxoo
(no subject)
Date: 2020-09-04 11:57 am (UTC)Aedan is stubborn. but i think it was what she used to survive. maybe, eventually, she'll let go of some of it. but she's still, at least in her mind, getting her feet under her, so that's going to drive how she approaches things. she's still more or less finding her rhythm in St. Louis among JC's people and in his life. once she really feels settled and like she's home, maybe things will change.
nope. no therapy. i just wrote what came to me. that's what i did with Mary M. that's what i did here with Doctor Tilson.
i had fun writing Jean-Claude going to Bert to more or less rub his nose in the fact that he wouldn't be able to use Aedan to his own ends for a while. (technically, in the books, the employees are basically the owners of the company because Bert is a prick about money and they got tired of it, but i've only kind of kept that in mind while writing this. canon? who needs canon?)
glad you enjoyed, bb. thanks for reading and commenting
(no subject)
Date: 2020-09-10 11:24 pm (UTC)Anywho....
Lots of good stuff! I enjoyed JC (and Edward) dealing with Bert probably more than I should have. [insert gleefully wicked laughter here] And I'm glad to see that Aedan is finally getting some much needed rest. Not too thrilled about her gearing up to take on the AF, but at least she's got Asher to help her prepare. And can I just put a little "yay!" in for Asher being in this chapter? I do so like it when you write him. Unlike that other author who shall remain nameless.
Just what the hell is Rhia supposed to do to convince Aedan to go to therapy? I mean it's not like everyone else hasn't been telling her that for a while now. I guess I'll just have to keep my fingers crossed that she comes up with a compelling reason.
(no subject)
Date: 2020-09-11 01:06 am (UTC)i so very much enjoyed writing Jean-Claude letting Bert know that he wasn't going to be able to use Aedan to make money (as i told Cat, i know that the author who shall remain nameless wrote it in that the employees were the owners and Bert a public face, but... fuck canon. i make my own canon!) as if she's some side show freak or something. i honestly think Aedan hasn't figured out yet that she's allowed to tell people no. too many years of living with her sperm donor imprinted upon her the fact that it wasn't a good idea to upset him. so... we'll let Jean-Claude do it for her until she realizes she's allowed to do so on her own.
i just love Asher so much and i hate that he's constantly been used as some kind of prop to show how progressive she is. "Look. My extremely cishet female character is totally cool with letting another man in the same bed as her and her main lover.(But she won't do more than kiss another woman because, like, ew! Gay girl cooties!" or whatever. we'll see what happens with the Anubis Foundation. should be a wild ride.
i'm sure Rhia can figure something out. she's a smart one, Rhia is. read on to see how she manages it!
glad you enjoyed, bb. thanks for reading.