The Mary Sue Virus: Beyond Death

[ladydeathfaerie]

 the much awaited *snorts* second half of the first chapter, now chapter two. was that confusing? good. it was supposed to be. i'm exhausted and my brain is dead. i've written over 12,000 words in two days. i'm going to Disneyland.

Title: The Mary Sue Virus: Beyond Death
Chapter Two: A Slight Case Of Deja Vu
Fandom: Anita Blake universe
Rating: 18 and up
Warnings: graphic sex and violence, language, anything else i can toss in.
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 Sues are the sole property of their originators, Ginevra, Dazzledfirestar, Nanaea, SilverFoxChan and ladydeathfaerie. the concept and title of The Mary Sue Virus are used with permission from Dazzledfirestar. all beta work, plot bunny shooting and ass spanking is being done by Gin.

The Mary Sue Virus: Beyond Death - Index Link

The house they arrived at was filled with sorrow, the atmosphere thick and choking with the emotion. The pard had gathered together with the news, clinging to one another in their grief. Tears flowed, punctuated with sobs and sniffles. There were so many bodies pressed together, Minette had a hard time recognizing faces. There was one she looked for and almost felt panic well up inside of her when she didn't see it at first. But the bodies moved, shifting into a more comfortable position, and a pale face emerged from the pile. She felt herself letting go breath she hadn't known she'd been holding.

Nathaniel lay limply amidst the tangle of limbs, one arm thrown across Zane's chest as he clung to the other man. Tears traced down his cheeks though he made no sound. Cherry was pressed up against his back, her hands stroking his head gently. A surge of protectiveness surged up within her and Minette was caught between not wanting to intrude and wanting to go hold him close. The warmth of a body startled her and she turned to find Micah standing beside her. "He's been like this since before I left. When we got the call.... " Micah swallowed, voice almost breaking with emotion. "He went downstairs to Damian. Damian wouldn't rise. We don't know what's happening to him."

"He's still there," Aedan whispered, her voice harsh. Minette turned to stare at her, concerned when she saw her friend's face. Aedan looked like she was caught by some invisible pull and panic shone in her eyes. "I can feel him. He's there. He's..... trapped."

"Aedan?" Jason reached out to touch her. His fingers barely curled around her arm, but Aedan jumped and pulled away as if she'd been burnt. Jason's gaze shot to Minette in concern before returning to the other woman. Aedan had backed up until she was pressed up against the door. "Aedan, what's wrong?"

"I can't stay here. I have to go. I can't stay," her hands scrambled to find the doorknob. Jason moved forward as if to stop her, but Minette beat him to her side.

"What's wrong?" she whispered, even though she knew it was pointless. Aedan turned wide eyes to her.

"I can't stay. I can feel him down there. I can feel him. He's trapped and screaming and crying and afraid and he wants to die and.... I want to go to him. I want to try. I want to go downstairs and wake him up and...." she blinked and looked at Minette. "I shouldn't be able to do this. I shouldn't be able to feel him. I..... I need to get out of here."

Minette slid an arm around Aedan's shoulders, turning an anxious gaze to Micah. "I need someplace to put her. I think the events of the evening are starting to sink in. She's going into shock." Minette didn't think it was exactly the truth, but it wasn't far from a lie, either. Micah nodded and started for a door that obviously led to the bedrooms. Jason stopped him.

"I'll take them. You stay here," he said softly, eyes moving to the pile of bodies on the floor. "They need you right now." Micah nodded, the look on his face grateful. He stepped back, letting Jason deal with the two women. Minette watched as Micah joined the rest of his pard, curling up with them to share in their grief and loss. She felt a strong desire to join them, but Aedan needed her. So she shoved her own wants aside for the moment and followed after Jason, Aedan clinging to her like a vine.

It was late when she was finally able to take her leave of Aedan. Minette had helped her shower and clean up before helping her to bed. At first, her friend hadn't wanted to let go of her, had almost seemed afraid to be left alone. But exhaustion had won out over fear and Aedan had drifted off without much fight. Minette had waited for about half an hour before she'd decided that the other woman would be able to sleep on her own and wouldn't need a babysitter. She’d opened the door to find Stephen and Vivian were standing in the hallway. She’d watched them climb silently into the bed with Aedan, curling up around her like a living blanket. Then she'd gone in search of her own shower.

Micah was waiting for her when she stepped out of the bathroom, his face stark in the dim light of the hall. He looked lost, nothing like the man who had taken charge at the police station only a handful of hours ago. That urge to cuddle him close rose up within her again. She didn't fight when he took her hand and drew her after him, into a bedroom that held a small group of sleeping bodies. She recognized Nathaniel in the midst of the group. Jason was spooned up against his back. The desire to protect came again, strong enough that it startled her. Instinct took over as the adrenalin faded and she found herself curling up with the rest of them to sleep. She didn't recall taking her clothes off, just finding a spot where she could lay and drift into slumber.

The next day was filled with activity. Aedan rose sometime after noon, looking less freaked but still a touch uneasy. If she’d been upset to wake in the middle of her own pile of bodies, she hadn’t said anything. But she’d insisted almost immediately that she get to go to her apartment to retrieve some of her own possessions. Micah had sent Zane with her, while one of Rafael’s rats had volunteered to accompany them. They’d returned within an hour with two suitcases. One contained her clothing and the other contained some of the items she was going to need for work. She’d also brought a small case that held several guns.

Minette watched her friend stalk back and forth across the floor. "You need to eat, Aedan. You haven’t had anything since yesterday," she said, gaze flicking to the cluster of people in the living room. Once again, they were curled around Nathaniel, trying to keep him from slipping away. She hadn’t heard him say anything since he’d woken. It was bad enough she had to be concerned about him, she didn’t want to have to worry about her best friend, either.

"I’m too nervous," Aedan shook her head. "I need to leave. Now. Sunset is coming and I don’t want to feel him again."

"Was it that bad?" Minette whispered, watching the other woman’s hands clench and unclench repeatedly.

"Its bad. I can feel him. I mean…. Imagine being aware, but being unable to convey your needs and wishes. I can’t go through that again. I’ll sleep anywhere but here."

"You need to eat before you go to work. So sit down and have some breakfast. I made eggs and sausage," Minette took Aedan by the arm and dragged her into a seat. Before Aedan could protest, Minette dropped a plate of food before her.

"Its four o’clock in the afternoon."

"You haven’t been up that long. Its breakfast," Minette said firmly. Aedan made a face, but picked up her fork anyway. She shoveled a bite into her mouth and chewed it thoughtfully for a moment or two. Then she pointed the fork toward the other room.

"Make sure you get food into him. I don’t care what it takes. Just get him to eat. In fact, get all of them to eat. I know they’re in shock and are lost, but that doesn’t mean that they’re going to forget to live. That’s not why we’re here. And she asked us to look after all of them," she whispered softly. Minette nodded.

"I’ll do what I can."

~*~*~*~*~

The coffee cup in the corner had a quirky saying on it that told her every thing she needed to know. This was Anita’s desk, her chair, her coffee cup. Her office. Bert had stuck Aedan in here the moment she’d walked through the door. She’d almost called him a callous bastard to his face, but there was such a look of sorrow in his eyes that she’d decided against it. In fact, the same kind of pall hung over the Animators, Inc. offices that hung over Anita’s house and even over the squad room at the police station. Aedan felt guilty that she was there, sitting in Anita’s office. She had no right. Some of the looks that she’d received when she’d walked through the door had told her that the people in the offices agreed with her on that one. They’d much rather she’d been the one killed on that road. And Aedan couldn’t say she blamed them for it.

The only good thing about being here was that there was none of that trapped energy here. She didn’t have to feel Damian trying to break free from his prison, didn’t have to suffer with him. It had been so overwhelming last night to stand there in the house and realize that she could feel the vampire screaming for release. She didn’t know how long she could stay at Anita’s house with him beneath her feet, locked away inside of himself, crying out silently for help.

Still, she had no business sitting behind the desk. She wasn’t even close to being in the same class as Anita had been in. Her last raising had been taxing. What the hell was she doing here? And it wasn’t like she could get up and walk out. The man in the corner wouldn’t allow for it. Another one of Rafael’s people, sent with her to watch over her. As if she needed to be babysat. She wasn’t in any danger. When would these people figure that out? She was almost completely positive that Anita had been the only target last night. And yet, here she was with a wererat standing guard over her. Like she’d break the first time someone looked at her wrong.

Her nerves were stretched to the very ends of their limits when a knock sounded on the door. "Come in," she called out, shifting in the chair to try and look more professional. The panel swung open and a young woman stepped in. She was red-eyed and clad entirely in black. A man about the same age escorted her, one hand on her elbow. He bore a striking resemblance to her, his face blank. But there was a look in his eyes that matched the one on her face. Aedan glanced down at the file before her. "Mrs. Parnell? Please come in," she stood and moved to shake the other woman’s hand.

"Thank you for seeing me on such short notice, Miss Kinkade. Mr. Vaughn assured me it was no trouble," the woman said, settling into one of the leather chairs that faced the one Aedan had just left.

"Of course it isn’t. How can I help you?" she asked softly, then looked at the man. "I’m sorry. You are?"

"I’m Celia’s brother. Harrison Darmont," he replied.

"Mr. Darmont. What’s brought you to Animator’s, Inc.? How can I help you?" Aedan put on her best professional face and listened to the young widow tell her story. Her gaze flicked to the rat in the corner, noting his seeming disinterest in the events. It was going to be a long night.

~*~*~*~*~

Minette frowned as Aedan slipped out the door without a word to her. She’d been informed by Stephen upon waking that Aedan hadn’t come in until well after sun up, looking haggard and worn. She’d obviously been working in one of the local cemeteries, because the smell of dirt and earth clung to her even now as she hurried out into the darkening skies. Micah stepped up behind her. "Something’s bothering her," he said quietly.

"Damian," Minette shook her head before turning to look at him. His face was still cast in sorrow, but he was, for the moment, together. Minette had discovered that Micah drifted between being strong and falling apart. This was obviously one of his stronger moments. The puzzled look he shot her prompted her to continue. "She can feel him. She says he’s trapped and he’s helpless. He wants out and he wants to die. It unnerves her."

"She can feel him?" Minette nodded, watching confusion cloud his face. "That’s odd because Anita…. " he paused and swallowed. "Anita said she didn’t have the ability to do that yet. She can raise the dead, can sense some of them. But she shouldn’t be able to sense Damian as he is now."

"Are you sure?" Minette asked. Micah said nothing. The look in his eyes was telling enough. "There’s something strange happening."

"Very strange. Damian and Nathaniel should have died with her. They shouldn’t have survived. Don’t get me wrong. I’m thankful that they’re still here. But they shouldn’t be. How is that possible? They were tied to her."

"I don’t know how its possible. I really don’t. But let’s be glad it is," she whispered.

"The basement door is open," Jason joined them. Both turned to look at him. He stared at the wall behind their heads. "I could smell Aedan’s scent by it. I went downstairs to see what she’d been doing. I could feel power by his coffin."

"Power?" Micah’s voice was little more than a whisper.

"Power. Like she was trying to raise him. I’ve felt it before. It felt like Anita’s power," Jason told them before turning to leave the room. Micah and Minette could only stare at one another, neither one able to voice the thoughts that were floating through their heads.

~*~*~*~*~

The small chapel was filled with far too many faces and most of them were unknown to her. Minette watched them enter and take their seats, their faces cast in shock and sorrow and disbelief. Aedan stood at her side, wearing a black silk shell, a black suit coat and matched skirt. She knew that her friend wore the jacket to hide the gun she’d put on over the shell. This service, arranged by Bert Vaughn and a few others, was mostly for family, though there were people there from the were community and from Animators, Inc. It was only the second time she’d met the man and he’d already proposed something to her that was highly unethical and would make him loads of money. He was lucky she hadn’t slapped him.

She allowed her gaze to travel over the gathered throng, trying to find people she recognized at first glance. Sitting in a bench with a curly headed young woman she’d never seen before was Richard Zeeman, Ulfric of the Thronnos Rokke Clan and one of Anita’s former lovers. He looked small, despite his bulky frame. His hair, a rich shade of brown and soft looking even from this distance, hung almost limply about his face and shoulders. He looked defeated and diminished in his grief. The woman was holding him tightly in her grasp, whispering in his ear while he stared blankly at the urn that had been settled on a stand at the front of the chapel.

A couple that Minette thought were her father and step-mother sat in the front pew, wrapped tightly around one another. There were a few others sitting with them, people she decided must be Anita’s siblings. Micah, Jason, Nathaniel and the rest of the pard were all grouped together in the pew behind the pair. Several of the wolves were there, as were some of the rats and their king, Rafael. He was dressed in basic black, his hair combed back from his face. His skin was dark, his hair darker. Shoulders hidden beneath a well made suit jacket were slack, as if a weight were settled upon them. He looked pensive, any sorrow he felt hidden behind blank mask.

Four people sat in one of the pews at the back and Minette was almost surprised to realize that the blonde man was Edward, there with Donna and her two children. Edward looked properly saddened, though the emotion wasn’t as blatant as it was on other faces. His eyes actually held a touch of sorrow in them, though she could sense a thick wall of determination around him. Donna sat beside him, her too heavily tanned face looking pale against the brown of her hair. The girl huddled against her mother while the boy sat beside Edward, looking solemn. Both of the children had their mother’s dark hair and eyes. A blonde woman sat by herself in another pew, her face cast in the same sorrow and grief that resided on nearly everyone else’s features. It was Anita’s friend, Ronnie Sims.

The police that had shown up for the service took up several pews by themselves. Sitting with them were Dolph and his wife Lucille. She was sobbing softly into a handkerchief. Dolph had his arm around her shoulder and had pulled her close so he could offer her comfort. Beside him was Zerbrowski. He was wearing matching clothes this time, no doubt picked out by the woman sitting next to him. His wife, Katie, was crying, her head down and hands clasped tightly in her lap. One of Zerbrowski’s hands covered hers, squeezing gently in an offer of comfort. While Dolph looked as professional as ever, Zerbrowski looked stricken, his face pale and his eyes unfocused. There were others there, some in plain clothes and some in their uniforms. It was a show of support for a fallen comrade.

Another two pews were filled with the employees of Animators, Inc. Bert was hard to miss, his large frame taking up a good portion of one corner of the pew. His hair, shockingly white and buzzed short, attracted attention. It sat above a face that was suited to smiling and schmoozing. A face that now wore a frown, painted with sorrow and grief. Larry Kirkland sat next to him, his reddish-orange hair a contrast to Bert’s white hair. Larry’s face was pale and drawn, his hands shaking slightly in his lap from the weight of his own emotion. A Hispanic couple was there, older and world worn. The only name she could put to the couple was Manny and Rosita Rodriguez. Mary and Craig, the receptionists at Animators, Inc. were there, as well. There were several others from the firm and Aedan had made a comment that Bert would piss his pants with the amount of money they’d be losing by having to close the office for the day.

There were a pair of women in the back row that she didn’t know but still caught that feeling of familiarity from. One was petite with red hair and pale skin. The other looked as if she spent time in the sun, her hair a dark, golden blonde and her eyes a lovely honey brown that took in everything and everyone with an awareness that wasn’t quite normal.

The service was somber, punctuated by sobs and sniffles. One or two people cried into their hands most of the time. Instrumental music played through hidden speakers, something soft and sweet and meant to be comforting to the mourners but wasn’t. The man who presided over the ceremony was non-denominational and spoke of the type of person Anita was and how she would be missed. Minette tuned it out. She had to listen to it again that night. Instead, she let her mind wander over the past few days and what it meant.

It was obvious that the virus had struck again. And she suspected it had something to do with Anita’s death. That meant their only course of action was to find out who had killed her. And why. Now if only she could find an opportunity to talk to Aedan alone.

~*~*~*~*~

Death. It was all around her. More specifically, the dead. She could feel them there, pressing against her as if they were as real and solid as she was. Aedan tried to push the feeling away, as it was both foreign and familiar all at once. Some part of her was responding to the feel of death and decay as it curled around her like a cloak, wrapping her in its embrace. She could spend all night here and it wouldn’t bother her one bit. She sighed and glanced around at the gathered throng.

The cemetery was less crowded than the chapel service had been, but there were many faces there that she recognized from earlier in the day. So far, the only ones who had shown up were humans and shifters. The wild power of the lycanthropes crept over her skin, a prickling feeling that reminded her of insects. But that was the only power she felt. She couldn’t sense any of the vampires at all. She was sure she’d know the feel of them when they got there. She could sense the dead beneath her feet, the spirits around her. She should be able to tell when a vampire was near. This was a place of death and the dead. She felt like she was at home.

She stood with Minette, in the center of the pard. Protected and yet not. She had no place among them. Not really. She was there because of Minette and her promise. Zane and Cherry were crowded around Nathaniel, their arms both supporting and offering comfort. He was crying softly, lavender eyes filled with grief and face wet with his tears. His long auburn hair had been left loose for the night and hung about him like a cloak. Merle stood beside Micah, silent and still. Gregory and Vivian were behind them, each of them touching Nathaniel. The rest of the pard was there, each touching one another or Nathaniel. And she didn’t belong.

Somehow, the gun at her side was a comforting weight. She didn’t want to consider what that meant. Instead, she worked at trying to contain herself. The need to use her power was going wild in this place. She had to struggle to hold onto it. And she almost had herself under control when a chill wind swept across her and made her shudder. She didn’t think anyone else felt it because no one seemed to react as she had. She knew that the vampires had arrived.

All eyes turned to the group as they swept into the graveyard. Pale faces shone against the velvet cloak of night, each of them looking solemn and somber. Jean Claude was at the front, his face a mask that showed nothing. Inky black hair framed his pale face, his eyes glowing in the dim light. Asher walked beside him, his hair glowing mellow a silvery-gold in the moonlight. Together, the two of them were like shadows and light. Both were bathed in sorrow, even if they didn’t outwardly show it. The two of them alone were an impressive sight. But there were more vampires with them.

Behind the Master of the City and his second in command came London, with dark eyes and dark hair that was cut short to curl around his head, and Requiem, clad in a cloak, his long black hair falling gently around his shoulders. The only color in his face was the brilliance of his blue eyes, the thin line of his neatly trimmed moustache and Vandyke beard. Willy and Hannah followed, Willy’s clothes somber and fitting to the occasion while Hannah’s blonde hair shone against her pale skin and black dress. There were more that she couldn’t name on sight.

Coming up behind the group were Wicked and Truth. The brothers were silent and on guard, Truth’s dark hair a sharp contrast to Wicked’s blonde locks. Every single one of them was clad in black. Some of the clothes appeared old and correct to periods long gone past. Some of the younger vampires were wearing more modern attire. It was enough to give her a moment’s smile as she realized that they looked like every little goth wannabe’s idea of a vampire.

But the smile faltered when the group looked at her as one, studying her as if she were some kind of morsel to be eaten up. Aedan drew her arms around her against the sudden chill that slid through her. It was nothing to do with the temperature of the nighttime air and everything to do with the way the gathered bunch of vampires were looking at her.

Almost immediately behind them came another, smaller group of vampires. The smartly dressed man at the front of them was none other than Malcolm, head of the vampire church. Bright yellow hair was cut close to his head, the curls in wild disarray. He wore a dark suit, his tie perfectly in place. His face was cast in an appropriately saddened expression, his followers wearing similar looks. They moved to stand on the other side of the clearing, a silent showing of respect for the deceased. It was also a public announcement that they’d had nothing to do with her death and bore her no ill will.

Energy pulsed and flowed around Aedan, filled with the wildness of the shifters and the cold, still timelessness of the vampires. She looked around again, taking note of faces she knew. Not surprisingly, Richard was there, clad in the same suit he’d worn to the daytime service. He still looked lost and broken, his hair so mussed that she thought he’d been dragging his hands through it frequently. The same woman from that afternoon was there, holding him close and whispering in his ear. Her eyes lifted and met Aedan’s, a spark of recognition jolting her. Aedan touched Minette’s arm and motioned with a slight move of her head toward the woman. Minette looked at them, then to Aedan and nodded.

Jason stood with Richard, his face filled with a grief so deep that she wondered how deeply he felt Anita’s loss. There were many other members of the pack there, though she was hard pressed to put a name to any of them. She wondered how many had come to honor Anita and how many were there to ensure that Richard made it through the service. He looked as if he were going to fall over. The thought worried her. The pack needed Richard strong and whole, to protect and guide them. Right now, they looked as if they where the ones who were doing the protecting. They were clustered together around him in an unspoken show of their support for him. Unlike the vamps, they were lending comfort to one another.

Edward stood off to the side, his face blank and expressionless. He wore plain black jeans and a black t-shirt. The coat he wore over was long and black and Aedan was willing to bet that he was carrying more than one weapon under it. A short distance away stood two women. They weren’t close enough to one another to be there together, but they weren’t so far apart that they didn’t give the illusion of perhaps knowing each other. As Aedan stared at them, that same spark of recognition shot through her. Again, she tugged at Minette’s hand. Minette squeezed back in silent understanding.

There was a smaller group that hung to the background. It took Aedan a short while to realize that they were the hyenas. Narcissus stood among his people, sobbing noisily into a handkerchief. He’d worn a suit for the occasion and she wondered briefly if Asher had had anything to do with that since the hyenas were his animal to call. More of his people surrounded them, acting as bodyguards for the evening. She had her doubts that anything would be able to attack when there were so many members of the preternatural community out in force. Not to mention one of the most dangerous humans she knew of.

The last group gathered around the small clearing was the rats. Rafael headed the group up, his face looking pale in the light. He’d brought half a dozen of his rats with him. Among them were Claudia and the two rats who’d been watching over Aedan the past couple of days. All wore black and all wore the same expression on their face. Sorrow seemed to have found a home in so many people. And all because of one woman.

Power prickled across the nape of her neck, drawing Aedan’s attention back to the cluster of vampires. Jean Claude was staring at her, studying her intently. She allowed herself to look back, never once realizing that she was meeting his gaze dead on. His hair gleamed in the light of the moon, his clothes rich and fine. Tailored just for him, they hugged his frame and she found herself wanting to touch them. She swore she could hear his voice whispering through her mind, but that couldn’t be. She’d never spoken to him. Never heard him speak before. And this was the first time she’d ever laid eyes on him. Why was he looking at her the way he was? The soothing drone of the man presiding over the service broke the spell and she dragged her attention back to the matter at hand.

Again, it was a monologue that listed Anita’s accomplishments and spoke of her life. She was described as a woman with morals and principles that always put others before herself. He told of her capacity for love and that she had great honor. It wasn’t anything that Aedan hadn’t heard before. She only half paid attention, listening instead to the other voices that whispered through the cemetery, the last remainders of the dead who had been forgotten. They sensed in her a kindred spirit and vied for her attention, desperate to be remembered by someone. There was so much power swirling around her that she felt like she was drunk on it.

A fluid voice floated on the air and it drew her attention back to the service. Jean Claude stood at the front of his vampires, reciting something in French. The flow and feel of the words made her think is was a poem of some kind. Then the words switched from French to English and she felt something inside of her respond to him. She had no idea what he was saying, paid attention only to the sound of his voice and the cadence of his speech. Her insides felt like they were melting and she had to curl her hand into a fist until her nails bit into the flesh of her palm. It was almost a relief when he finished speaking and stepped back beside Asher. His eyes found hers and she had to force herself to look away.

Richard stepped forward next. The curly haired woman went with him, her hands curled around one of his elbows. His voice shook with emotion when he spoke. The depth of his love for her was evident in the words he chose and the way he spoke them. Several times, he faltered in his speech and the woman at his side had to prompt him. It was painful to watch and Aedan felt her heart breaking for him. It was obvious he was lost due to Anita’s death and she wondered how he was going to recover from it.

Micah stepped past her then, his words sure and his tone even. He held himself straight and tall, hands clasped together before him. He, too, spoke of his feelings for Anita and quietly told of how she’d saved his pard from certain death, of how she’d accepted it as her own. Mention was made of her work in establishing the coalition and her tireless efforts in trying to find a niche for everyone in the lycanthrope community to fit into. His voice didn’t break until the end, when he mentioned how much he loved her and was going to miss her. Aedan felt herself compelled to reach out and lay a hand on his arm. He slipped back into his place behind her and she felt the sorrow at her back like it was a living, tangible thing.

Rafael took his turn speaking about her. His voice was steady as he gave praise to Anita for her fierce friendship and loyalty. The rat king was quick to point out that Anita was a warrior who championed the rights of those who couldn’t do it themselves and she never once compromised her beliefs to take the easy way out. He called her friend and ally and said he would miss her. Though his voice hadn’t wavered or lost the steadiness, he ended his speech with more emotion in his words than when he had started.

When Malcolm stepped forward to speak, Aedan allowed her mind to wander. Her skin was tingling with the different currents of power that wound past her. The ghosts were drifting closer, begging her to pay attention to them. She tried to ignore the pull, but it was hard. She’d never felt anything like it before in her life. There were so many really old graves surrounding them and she wanted nothing more than to explore every inch of the place.

Minette’s hand tugging at her own brought her back to herself. The service was over and she wondered how long she’d been lost in the whispers of power and ghosts that floated unnoticed around them. Some of the mourners had already left, some were in small groups talking to one another. The pard and the pack were clustered around the group of vampires, talking softly to one another. The three women stood apart, staring at her and Minette. Aedan looked at the woman standing beside her, then glanced at the other three. A motion with one hand pointed out a large tombstone some distance away. The five of them floated toward it slowly, almost as if they were walking aimlessly.

When they were standing around the tombstone, the five of them looked at one another. "Alright. Who’s who?" Aedan asked softly.

The curly haired woman spoke first. "I’m Nan."

"Daz," the petite redhead replied.

"SilverFoxChan," the blonde told them. There was a hint of dismay in her voice.

"Gin," the woman standing beside Aedan raised a hand.

"Hi, I’m Ldf and I’m a Mary Sue Virus addict," Aedan told them, though her tone was far from joking.

"How the hell did we end up here?" Nan looked around. "The first time I looked in the mirror, I didn’t know who I was. And I didn’t know where I was until Marianne told me I had to come here to help Richard and the pack. By the way, my name is Rhiannon. And I’m a witch."

"I don’t know," Minette shook her head. "Ldf and I arrived here in time to watch Anita die. I would imagine that’s why we’re here. She held the universe together. Why everyone isn’t dead is beyond me. But I’m sure we’ll find out. I’m Minette and I’m a wereleopard."

"My name is Janika," Daz said, her eyes traveling around the cemetery in confusion. "I’m human and I have no clue what the hell I’m doing here. I’ve barely even started reading in the fandom. I don’t know why I was at the funeral, but I think it has something to do with the blonde over there."

"Asher?" Aedan asked, glancing over to the group of mourners. "Odd. I’m sure we’ll figure it out eventually."

"This never used to happen to me until I started hanging out with you guys," SFC muttered, crossing her arms over her chest. "My name is Isis and I’m a werelion. I haven’t discovered much else about myself yet. I’m still trying to figure out why the hell this keeps happening to me. Though I do know that I keep feeling someone or something calling to me."

"My name is Chastity," Aedan grumbled, then glared at the snickers that floated between the girls. "I go by Aedan. I’m a necromancer. And something very fucking weird is going on here."

"Weird how?" Rhiannon asked. Aedan shook her head then turned, hand moving automatically for the gun at her side. Jean Claude stood only a handful of feet away, a neutral expression on his face. She could see amusement dancing in his eyes, though, at the sight of her hand on the butt of her gun.

"Do you not know that it is dangerous to wander the cemetery alone?" he asked, ignoring the implication that she’d thought he was threat.

"And how could we be in danger when you and all of your friends are only a short distance from us?" Aedan dropped her hand away from the weapon. He only smiled at that. "What can I do for you?"

"I wish to speak with you. In private. About a delicate matter," he replied evenly.

"That’s funny, Jean Claude. I was going to say the same thing," another voice said over her shoulder. Aedan turned and nearly pissed herself. Edward, the man known to the undead world as Death, was standing directly behind her and he wore that look that she knew meant nothing but trouble for anyone on the other end of it. And it was directed at her.

Oh shit.

okay, so we've all found one another again and everything is peachy keen. right.... the fun has only just started!