The Mary Sue Virus: Beyond Death

[ladydeathfaerie]

Title: The Mary Sue Virus: Beyond Death
Chapter Twenty Four: Quest for the Truth
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 

Lurid red neon lit up a small patch of the surrounding darkness, giving the appearance that the front of the building and the sidewalk were washed in blood. There was a line of people waiting to enter the business while a heavily muscled bouncer handled the door. Dolph studied the place with a frown, Zerbrowski hanging at his shoulder. For once, the man held any flippant comments he had to make to himself. The two of them crossed the street and headed directly for the door. He'd already called ahead to ensure that they'd be shown in and granted an audience.

The mountainous bouncer looked at him, whatever expression he wore hidden behind his sunglasses. Dolph produced his badge and held it up for the man to see. A faint smile flashed over the man's face, gifting the two of them with a view of the doorman's fangs. The line behind him started muttering, thinking he and Zerbrowski were trying to get in before them. Guilty Pleasures was always busy because it was one of the only places in town where a person could watch vampires and shape shifters strip. None of them had seen his badge because he'd made sure they wouldn't. There was no need to upset anyone when all he was here for was some information and perhaps a bit of help.

"Jean Claude is expecting us," Dolph told the silent vamp before him. The two men regarded one another without speaking. They were equal in height, but where Dolph was simply muscular, this man was muscle built on top of muscle. As if he were trying to make up for other inadequacies. Finally, the vamp nodded his head and motioned for the door. Dolph stepped forward, Zerbrowski on his heels. The cross check girl caught them, asking for any holy items they might be carrying. Neither had come carrying a cross, so they slipped past her quickly enough.

The interior of the club was already pulsing with music and bodies. The patrons were mostly women, though there was a scattering of men here and there. A blonde was on stage, busy stripping off the leather chaps he was wearing. Judging by the skin tone, he was alive, which meant he was some kind of lycanthrope. Zerbrowski leaned forward. "Do you suppose that leather chafes?"

He wasn't referring to the chaps.

"Detective Storr," a voice said from behind. Dolph turned to find himself staring at a male vamp he didn't know. "I am to escort you to Jean Claude's office. If you will follow me?" The man gave a slight bow.

"Thank you," Dolph nodded. The vamp turned and began tracing a path through the sea of bodies toward a back wall. The three of them slipped through a doorway, into a corridor with several doors opening up off of it. The three of them stopped before one of the doors, then the vamp knocked. There was a call of entry from the other side. The vampire opened the door for them before walking away. Dolph and Zerbrowski showed themselves into the office, pushing the door closed behind them.

Jean Claude rose from his seat, clad in blue and black. He offered both men a smile and motioned toward the empty chairs before his desk. They sat and made themselves comfortable. The room was done up in black and white, the decor slightly oriental in feel. The vampire lowered himself into his seat once more, his hands coming to rest on the top of his desk with fingers twined together. "Good evening, Detective Storr. I must admit surprise to your visit tonight. How is it you think I can help you?"

"We're looking into the death of a woman last night," Dolph began. Jean Claude spread his hands in a gesture meant to suggest he was uncertain how he could be of help with a dead woman.

"Do you suspect she was killed by a vampire?" the Master of the City asked.

"She wasn't drained."

"Then why come to me for information?"

"The woman was a lycanthrope. A werewolf. You have werewolves working here. I thought perhaps you would allow me to ask some of them questions, show them some pictures."

"To what purpose?"

Dolph sighed. The vampire wasn't giving an inch. "We have no idea who the woman is. She was found without identification and so far, there hasn't been any kind of missing persons report filed on anyone who matches her description."

"I see. And you think one of my employees will be able to give you the information you seek." It wasn't a question. The man's voice was devoid of emotion, which set Dolph's nerves on edge. He still hadn't gotten used to that and couldn't understand how Anita had been able to stand it.

"Its the easiest way to get hold of any members of the pack," Zerbrowski added. The vampire stared at them a moment, hands once more clasped together before him on the top of the desk. Then he nodded his head and gave them what wasn't quite a smile.

"I have sent for one of the wolves who works here. I am sure he will be willing to answer any questions you may have about the dead woman," Jean Claude assured them. Dolph couldn't help the feeling that the vampire knew something he wasn't telling. It was times like this when he wished Anita was there to help him. Anita knew how to handle the vampires and...

His chat with Aedan earlier in the evening flashed through his mind. She'd been far too reasonable when answering his questions, had been perfectly composed. And hadn't told him anything. He'd smelled something funny but he hadn't been able to put his finger on it. Now, though, he thought perhaps he should have questioned her a little harder. He stared at the man across the desk from him and felt a flash of understanding. "What do you know of Aedan Kinkade?" he asked, his eyes staring just to the left of the vampire's gaze.

"I know she is a necromancer. I know she is a Federal Marshal. I know she works for Animators, Inc. I know she consults with your office on matters that are beyond the normal scope of a police officer," Jean Claude offered easily. There was nothing on his face to give away any thoughts or feelings. Dolph felt a curious flicker of anger well up within him. Something was off. His instincts were screaming at him.

"And do you know her personally?"

The Master of the City gave him a look, then spread his hands in that same gesture once more. "Our paths have crossed, Detective Storr. But I am still in mourning for ma petite. I do not think it prudent to involve myself with her replacement at such a time."

"So why is one of your people working for her as a personal assistant?" Dolph asked, trying to weed out the lies. He was sure they were there, buried underneath what the man was saying.

There was a moment's pause, then the vampire shook his head. "She was in need of extra help and she had done me a favor. She knows no one in St. Louis and I was kind enough to offer her the use of one of my people for as long as she had a need."

Almost the same answer, verbatim, that Aedan had given him. Curious. Dolph would have said more, but there was a knock at the door. He ended up giving a nod to let the other man know the conversation was over. A moment later, the door opened and the same blonde that had been on stage earlier entered the room. He was dressed now in a pair of faded jeans and a blue tank top to match his eyes. He watched as the young man took a good look at him before turning his gaze on to the vampire.

"Jason, this is Detective Rudolph Storr. Detective, this is Jason Schuyler. He is a member of the local pack. Perhaps he can help you with your investigation," Jean Claude made the introductions. The blonde turned back to him and offered a faint smile, as if he wasn't sure he should be standing there or not.

"We've met," Dolph replied tonelessly.

"Yes, we have. Detective Storr," the young man nodded his head and Dolph frowned. He knew that voice. It was the same one that he'd heard over the phone earlier that day. As if reading what he was thinking, a slow smile slid over the blonde's face. "I trust that Miss Kinkade returned your phone call?"

"She did. Thank you for giving her the message," Dolph inclined his head. Then he reached into one of the pockets on the inside of his coat. From it, he took a photo of the woman's face. It had, unfortunately, been taken at the morgue, but it was the only one he had. "Jason, I wonder if you could tell me if you know this woman? She was found dead last night and, so far, we haven't turned up any leads about her identity."

The blonde stared at him for a few minutes, frowning. Dolph thought that he was sorting through what he'd been told. Finally, the frown slid away and was replaced by a look of understanding and sadness. "She's a wolf?" he asked.

"She is. Our coroner ran tests to be sure." As if the presence of all that silver hadn't been enough. Jason nodded and held out a hand to take the photo from him. Dolph handed the glossy print to the young man, eyes locked to his face as he lifted the picture so he could give it a good look. The blood drained from the blonde's cheeks, leaving him pale and wide eyed.

Dolph knew what the other man would see. The bullet hole in the center of her forehead was a grisly, gaping wound that looked rough at the edges, raw and yawning. The picture was only a head shot, and they'd managed to get her mouth closed before snapping it. Jason nearly shoved the print back at him, head shaking slightly. "I don't know her. I've never seen her before."

"Could she be a lone wolf?" Dolph asked him.

"I... She could. Maybe. The pack is good sized. I don't necessarily know everyone in it."

"Is it possible that someone in the pack knows her?" Dolph didn't take the picture.

"I suppose its possible," Jason shrugged.

"Would it be possible to ask around? Could I perhaps question them?"

"Not everyone in the pack is out about their status," Jason informed him and shook his head. "I doubt they'd out themselves to the police. I don't think our alpha would go for it."

"Would he let it happen if you passed the picture around and asked if any of them knew her?" Dolph stared at the blonde as he spoke. So far, he'd seen nothing by way of visual clues that would tell him if the other man knew anything or not. To his credit, Jason took several long minutes to think over the question before shrugging his shoulders.

"He might. I'd have to ask him first."

"Keep the picture. Ask him. Show it around. If you find out anything, call me," Dolph instructed, then produced a card from his pocket. He left it on the corner of Jean Claude's desk. "Any help you can give that will identify this woman will be deeply appreciated."

Jason nodded without saying anything more. Jean Claude gave him a pleasantly blank stare. "Is there anything else, Detective?"

Dolph was halfway to his feet when the vampire asked his question and yet another piece of conversation slid through his brain. He finished standing and nodded at the other man. "Actually, there is. What gives you the right to give orders to Miss Kinkade's personal assistant? When I called to speak with her today, I was told that you left instructions that she wasn't to be disturbed. If you have nothing to do with her, why would you issue such an order?"

"Because, Detective," Jean Claude replied, a hint of steel in his eyes. "I am the one person who most understands the effect of her gifts upon her body. While she is quite adept at her job, her energy is not limitless and the more she uses it, the more she requires rest."

"So you're saying you do have a personal interest in her," Dolph frowned.

"I am saying, Detective, that I have a professional interest in her. She has the power of life and death over my kind. Seeing that she is capable of determining her course of actions with a clear head is of interest to me. As it should be to you. Do you know what it requires to raise a zombie?" When Dolph said nothing in reply, the vampire went on. "It requires skill and the ability. But it also requires a great deal of energy. The older the zombie to be raised, the more energy that is required. She cannot allow her reserves to dip too low. I have no desire to see her die because she makes a mistake, Detective."

Dolph stared at him, trying to figure out just what the man meant. Cop instincts were screaming that there was more to his words than what he'd said out loud. Perhaps something showed on his face because the vampire pushed on. "I am not a lover of death, Detective Storr. Whether you choose to believe me or not, I value life as much as you do."

Dolph had a hard time believing that one. But he said nothing, simply nodded his head and looked at Zerbrowski. The other man stood. They turned for the door, took two steps, then Dolph stopped and turned back. "Oh. One other thing," he managed to pin the vampire with a glare while not quite meeting his eyes. The man's expression remained pleasant and blank. "Miss Poulson. I trust she's well?"

"You know Minette is quite well, Detective. You are well aware that the pard has moved into my home for safety's sake. Shall I tell her you were asking about her?" Jean Claude enquired politely.

"I trust you have someone ensuring she remains safe? After all, she is a material witness in Anita's murder. There's the fact that the pard was attacked at Anita's home. And then there's this new threat, killings that appear to be aimed at the lycanthropic community," Dolph ticked off the main points slowly. "I understand she's part of the coalition. That might make her a target. I see enough bodies in my line of work. I don't want to see the body of anyone I know again."

The meaning behind his words was perfectly clear. Jean Claude offered a smile, inclining his head to acknowledge it.

"Minette is quite safe, Detective. And she does not leave the safety of my home without an escort. It has been this way since Anita's death. Like you, I have no wish to see someone else I know die if it can be prevented."

That, at least, sounded sincere enough. Not that Dolph was going to automatically trust everything the man said to him. He was a vampire. It didn't matter what Anita had thought of him, how much she'd trusted him. He was just another blood sucker. And Dolph would be damned if he'd see another woman go down the same road that Anita had with the Master of the City.

"Is it possible the coalition might know who this woman is?" Zerbrowski asked, gesturing with one hand to the photo. The vampire cocked his head to the side ever so slightly, as if he were taking the time to deliberate the question. He finally nodded his head in an affirmative.

"It is possible. The coalition deals with many solitary members of the community seeking help and guidance. I cannot see what harm there would be in asking there about your victim," Jean Claude replied, then glanced at Jason. The blonde stepped forward and took up the pen that had been lying on the desk top. He took the business card handed him and jotted a number down. He turned the small cardboard rectangle over to Dolph.

"The head of the coalition is Micah Callahan. He should be able to help you," Jason told him. Dolph pocketed the card and nodded his head in thanks.

"Jason. Show the detectives out," Jean Claude said, tone casual. Dolph knew it for the order it was. Jason nodded and moved forward.

"If you'll follow me," he motioned toward the office's door.

~*~*~*~*~

"That's just creepy," Zerbrowski eyed the clowns staring down at them from the roof of The Circus of the Damned. There was something wholly wrong about vampire clowns. Dolph said nothing, merely continued on toward the entrance of the building. The other man fell into step behind him, muttering under his breath about clowns and nightmares. Dolph was more than willing to admit that it was an odd place to have offices for the coalition. But this was where they'd been told to come.

They were met at the door by another blonde. This one had curly hair and a look about him that suggested he'd spent some time under the bright spotlights at Guilty Pleasures. He didn't bother introducing himself, instead motioned toward the utter chaos that was the interior of the Circus before starting forward. Dolph fell into step behind him, Zerbrowski bringing up the rear.

The place was filled with people playing every carnival game imaginable. Barkers called out, trying to tempt folks to their booths. Vampires drifted through the crowd, drawing eyes and warm bodies after them. He could also see figures mixed in with the humans that moved with such predatory grace that there was no denying they were weres. The Circus was filled with sights and sounds that the general public couldn't seem to ignore. He wasn't surprised when those eyes turned to watch their progression across the floor.

It seemed they were the floor show.

The blonde finally escorted them through a doorway and silence fell around them heavy and welcomed. They were in a long stone corridor, with a handful of doors set into the walls. All of them were closed, none of them sporting any kind of signs to mark their uses. The blonde stopped before one of the doors, though, and knocked.

"Come in," a voice called. The blonde turned the knob and pushed the wooden panel open. The office was a refreshing change after the chaos of the main part of the Circus and the unrelenting sameness of the hallway. The walls were painted a soft, soothing shade of blue on the top half. The bottom half of the walls were done in a darker blue paper with a dove gray pattern woven through it. The two sections were divided by a thin strip of trim that had been painted white. Several paintings depicting nature scenes clung to the walls and leant a sense of freedom to the room. White tiles made up the ceiling.

The space was large enough for a trio of desks, plus a small waiting area containing a long couch and a trio of chairs. Deeply stained wood separated the two sections, a swinging gate set into the center of the thick railing. One desk was occupied by two people, male and female. He knew both of them. The scent of freshly brewed coffee hung on the air. "The police," the blonde announced though Dolph was sure there was no need to do so. Just as he was sure that the knock hadn't been necessary.

He stepped into the office space, Zerbrowski following right behind him, and the blonde left. Dolph noted that the door was pulled shut after him, leaving the four of them alone in the room. "Detective Storr," the man lifted his head and offered a faint smile. Eyes that reminded him of a cat stared out of that face and, for a moment, Dolph couldn't quite place him, though he was sure he'd seen the other man. Then it struck him that every other time he'd been in the company of the shorter man, a pair of sunglasses had been between them. Now he understood why. "Micah Callahan. We've met before."

"Yes, we have. For a moment, I didn't recognize you. Thank you for agreeing to see us, Mr. Callahan."

"Anything to help," Micah assured him, then motioned with one hand to the woman at his side. "I believe you know Minette." She looked up from the paperwork before her and offered a smile. Dolph nodded.

"Miss Poulson. Good to see you again," he told her.

"Coffee?" she asked. He and Zerbrowski both agreed, prompting her to stand and move over to the pot. She returned with two styrofoam cups. "If you'd like cream or sugar, they're by the coffee maker. Please, gentlemen. Join us."

The two of them passed through the swinging gate and found a pair of seats on the other side of the desk they'd been sitting at. Minette handed them each a cup, then resumed her chair. Both Micah and Minette were staring at him expectantly, so he decided to get right to the point. Reaching into his coat, he withdrew another copy of the photo he's shown at Guilty Pleasures. Wordlessly, he handed it across the desk.

Micah took it first and studied it. There was no visible reaction on his face beyond a slight tightening at the corners of his eyes and mouth. The cop in Dolph knew that meant that Callahan had dealt with a certain amount of brutality in his short life. He had to wonder just what kind of things had happened to the other man that would make him so... hardened to such violence. Minette was staring at the photo with wide eyes, her face gone pale. "Oh my god," she whispered softly.

"Do either of you know this woman?" Dolph asked them softly. Even if they didn't know her, he was sure that the manner in which she'd died was horrifying enough. He'd already explained on the phone that he was researching a murder and that he was looking for an identity. Which had prompted the young man to ask why he needed their help. Dolph had suspected that Callahan knew. But he'd answered anyway, letting the head of the coalition know that the woman was a werewolf.

"I've never seen her before, Detective Storr," Minette shook her head. When she looked up, he could see too much white in her eyes. "But I'm new in town and I don't get out much."

Dolph nodded and held onto the question that popped into his head at that. "Mr. Callahan?" he questioned, turning his attention to the man beside her.

"I don't recognize her. But I deal with so many people, Detective. Its hard to say for certain whether I've seen her before or not. Many of our members are solitary. Its possible someone knows who she is," Micah replied evenly. He held up the picture. "May I keep this? I can circulate it around and see if someone can give me a name."

"Of course, Mr. Callahan," Dolph nodded again.

"Detective Storr," Minette said softly, eyes still locked to the head shot. "We've heard some things. That the community is in some kind of danger. Is there any truth to that?" She lifted her eyes to look at him and he saw something in them that put him on full alert. He was more that positive that she knew something.

"Have you spoken to Miss Kinkade, Miss Poulson?" He was careful to keep the accusation out of the question. Maybe he could get something if he played this the right way.

"I've barely seen Aedan the past couple of days, Detective," she returned evenly. "She's been rather busy."

A flicker of unease slid through her eyes. He was almost sure she was lying about that. Dolph filed it for later consideration, knowing full well that Zerbrowski was taking notes where it was appropriate. There was no harm in answering her question. He was sure that the information might help loosen up her tongue. "The police suspect that there is someone out there targeting the lycanthropes and the vampires. There was silver used in that woman's murder."

He didn't think it was possible, but the woman went even paler than before. That could be nothing, though. He knew how deadly silver was to a lycanthrope. "Why didn't you tell me that night that you were a lycanthrope, Miss Poulson?"

The question threw her off guard. She visibly started at the question, then blinked at him. A hesitant licking of her lips told him that she didn't know exactly how to answer or why he'd ask her such a thing. Finally, she gathered herself enough to manage a reply. "I wasn't aware that such an admission would be relevant."

"Of course it would be relevant. You can change shape. You could have done so that night and helped Anita," he pointed out evenly. He watched as Callahan stiffened at that. Minette, though, seemed to draw herself up and she settled her hands before her on the desk. It was a careful, controlled action that spoke louder than words.

"There would have been very little I could have done against the vampires. And possibly the other lycanthropes involved in the attack. Changing is very hard on us and only alphas can do so without tiring themselves out. I doubt I would have been of much use to Ms. Blake if I couldn't even stay on my feet," she explained patiently. "Besides, Detective. That would have left Aedan alone and defenseless. Ms. Blake had ordered both of us to stay in the car. As a Federal Marshal, she had the right to do so. She was also Aedan's superior. For Aedan to have stepped out of the car, unarmed, would have not only been suicide, it would have been a violation of direct orders. What would have happened if she'd ended up in the hands of rogue vampires?"

"Anita Blake stepped out of the safety of that car and went to her death, Miss Poulson. Neither you, nor your friend, did a thing to help her. You'll forgive me if I find your excuses hollow."

"Detective Storr, there's nothing I would have liked more than to save Ms. Blake's life. It simply wasn't possible. Neither of us could have helped her. You can go ahead and lay the blame for her death at my feet, at Aedan's feet. That won't change the fact that we simply couldn't have done anything. And there isn't anything in this world that will ever lessen the guilt we feel over that. If I could go back and change that day, I would."

He could hear in her voice that she felt terrible about it. Maybe her guilt was genuine. Maybe it was because she really did wish she could change it. But maybe it was because she knew that she could have done more. "Tell me about this pard you left, Miss Poulson."

"Is this really necessary, Detective Storr?" Callahan asked and Dolph detected the smallest measure of anger in his words.

"Its okay, Micah," Minette said, laying her hand over his in order to keep him from losing his temper. Interesting. "It was a very bad place to be and I wanted to get away from them. The alpha was very abusive."

"And this alpha had no idea you were leaving until you did?"

"No, Detective. If he'd known, he wouldn't have let me leave," she said calmly.

"The ex-boyfriend. Was he the alpha in your pard?"

"He was."

There was nothing on her face to tell him what she was thinking or feeling. She was either lying or she was very accomplished at holding the emotions back. Dolph wasn't sure which it was. "Just how bad was your ex-boyfriend, Miss Poulson? Would he have done anything to draw you back into the pard?"

"I don't pretend to know his mind, Detective," she shrugged a shoulder.

"Would he have been so determined to have you back that he'd attack Anita to get you?" Dolph pinned her with a stare and waited for a reaction. He got it, but it didn't come from her. Instead, Callahan was up out of his seat in a heartbeat.

"This has gone far enough, Detective." His voice sounded deeper.

"Micah. Its okay. Please," Minette said softly, this time laying her hand on his shoulder. He turned to look at her and something passed between them. Dolph made note of it. The last he'd heard, Micah Callahan had been seen around town with Anita. Curious. "Trust me, Detective. If my old pard had been even remotely responsible for what happened to Ms. Blake, I would have told you that night. That is, of course, assuming that I was still on the scene when you arrived. Had my old pard been responsible, they'd have taken me with them when they left."

Dolph let the subject drop and motioned to the room around them with one hand. "How well do you know Jean Claude? What kind of personal ties do you have to the Master of the City, Miss Poulson?"

"I'm sorry, Detective Storr, but I fail to see how this line of questioning is relevant. " Micah spoke, his voice back to its original timbre.

"I'm trying to discover what's going on in my city, Mr. Callahan. What ties do the pard have to the vampires? How is it that Jean Claude seems to know you and Miss Kinkade so well when you're new to town?"

"Anita gave her life protecting us. I think maybe he feels responsible for us," Minette informed him. "Not that we've had a chance to talk about it. He is the Master of the City and I'm just the new leopard in town."

There was a tone of finality in that answer. Dolph knew the interview was over long before Micah motioned to the desk. "If you'll excuse us, Detective. We have quite a bit of work to do. I'm certain you can appreciate the fact that we're attempting to keep the community calm in the face of the latest news. People are panicking and we're trying our best to assure them that the police are doing everything they can to keep us safe. We'll be sure to distribute the woman's picture. If we discover anything that can help your investigation, you'll get a call from us."

Polite as it was, it was a brush off. Dolph was more than certain that he wouldn't get answers to any further questions without having to fight for them. He'd put both of them on the defensive and, while the loss of easy give and take was regrettable, he was pleased to find that he'd discovered the answers to questions he hadn't asked. He was more than certain now that both women knew more than they'd told him. Instinct told him that much.

"Thank you for your time," he told them both and came to his feet. Zerbrowski stood with him, one hand absently tucking his notepad into the pocket of his coat. "If I have any further questions, I'll call."

"Of course, Detective," Callahan replied steadily. "I'm sorry we couldn't be of more help to you. Good luck with your investigation."

The blonde from earlier was waiting for them in the hallway. The moment he and Zerbrowski exited the office, the young man straightened away from the wall he'd been leaning on and moved to join them. "This way, please," he motioned up the hall in the direction they'd come earlier. The two of them followed their escort silently. Once out into the main part of the Circus, the blonde cut a path through the throngs of people. It was as surreal on the way out as it had been on the way in. Dolph didn't speak and their guide didn't leave them until he'd taken them all the way back to the front door. "Good evening, Detectives."

Dolph still didn't speak until after he and Zerbrowski had crawled into the front seat of his car. He slipped the keys into the ignition and turned the engine over, then pulled out of the parking space. They were on the road before he finally said anything. "What kind of impressions did you get?"

Zerbrowski was silent a moment, then shook his head. Dolph caught the movement out of the corner of his eye. "There's something going on. Something weird."

"You felt it, too?"

"Yeah. It feels like they're hiding something."

"I got that feeling myself. The question is, just what are they hiding?"

~*~*~*~*~

"You should consider moving in to the Circus, Isis," Damian's voice was soft, hard to hear even in the silence of the room. She looked up at him in surprise and was shocked to see the seriousness and concern in his eyes. They were at her apartment, relaxing on the couch after she'd talked him into a movie. It had taken a lot of talking to convince him that he'd enjoy himself. And he had. Eventually. After she'd threatened to kick his ass if he didn't.

"I'm fine here, Damian," she told him, pleasantly warmed by his concern. Naturally, word had spread about the body found and the attack on Asher. Jean Claude had warned the vampires to be doubly vigilant and the coalition had been cautioning everyone of its members to be careful, had asked that they make sure all of the lycanthropes in the city were informed of the dangers. Not that there'd been huge amounts of information. Just that someone seemed to be intent on killing both groups.

"I do not wish to worry over you, Isis. Aedan is sure that someone is stalking Janika. The same man who nearly took Asher's life. I... do not think I could endure your loss," he admitted quietly.

Her heart stilled in her chest before it started again, pounding so hard against her ribs that she wondered if it would crack them. She couldn't have heard him correctly. She just couldn't have. Could she? She stared up at him, eyes wide. His confession was unexpected. Frightening. Wonderful. "Damian?" she asked softly, his name holding so many questions at once.

"I am not sure what it is I feel for you, Isis. I only know that losing you would leave me broken," he told her, answering the things she needed to know but simply couldn't ask. He reached out, laid his hand against her cheek. She could feel the warmth of his palm against her skin, warmth he'd borrowed from someone else. It didn't matter. Not to her. None of that mattered. He was what was most important.

The part of her that was still human knew that she felt something strong and amazing for him. That part of her thrilled at the look in his eyes and the fear she could hear in his words. He was a centuries old vampire, one of an ancient race of warriors that had been feared and envied. He was Viking. What she knew of the Vikings was sketchy, limited. She knew that they'd loved a good fight and, if they were a warrior, that they'd wanted to die in battle. To go to Valhalla. They'd been excellent sailors and fearsome fighters. They'd been called barbarians then and were still considered such today.

And he was afraid. For her. He cared for her. It was enough to leave her giddy and scared and hopeful all at once.

But the cat in her, the lioness, didn't concern itself with such things. The lioness wanted the strongest mate and a part of her was still attracted to Haven. He'd been trying to date her, to woo her to his side. She knew he wanted to stake his claim on her and drive Damian away. He'd tried doing everything he could think of, including an attempt at mating that had left him with a painful reminder that she wasn't to be fucked with.

Both Haven and Damian had claimed her. Until one of them proved the strongest, the lioness wouldn't be satisfied. Wouldn't give in to the human emotions that battled with the cat's more pragmatic line of thinking. The cat would seek them both out, toy with them both, until one of them proved the victor. Instinct told her that the vampire would win, that he'd destroy the lion if she asked it of him.

She planned on doing just that. As Regina of the Pride, she needed a mate who could eliminate any danger that threatened them. She already knew that Aedan was friend of the pride, that Aedan would shoot anything or anyone that tried to hurt them. Between the woman and the vampire, she knew that the pride would be safe. Defended.

"I know. Its still too soon to understand the connection," she replied. "But I feel something, too. I do."

"Then move into the Circus. So that I know you are safe when the sun claims me for sleep each morning." His green eyes were earnest. She offered him a smile, reached out to run her hand through the soft silk of his hair.

"Let me consider it, Damian. I've been on my own for a while. It would be odd to give up my independence like that. I've never relied on someone else to protect me," she told him.

She thought he was going to argue with her. He opened his mouth as if he were going to speak. But then he closed it, said nothing to her. Instead, he inclined his head to let her know that he would respect her wishes. She smiled at him, let him see just how much his answer meant to her. His skin was smooth beneath her fingers as she ran her hand over the side of his face. He actually leaned into the touch while staring at her face with wide eyes. There was such expression in them, such hunger and need. She found herself caught in his gaze and she leaned forward to lay her lips against his own.

There was a hesitance in his hands as he reached for her, as he threaded his fingers into the soft silk of her hair. She didn't understand it. The lioness wanted something more. Something far more direct and demanding. She growled against his mouth and drew back. "Isis?"

Fear and confusion laced his words and she bit off a curse. There was only one way to handle this. If it didn't go just right, the lioness would reject him. Something told her that having Haven in control of the pride would be bad for Jean Claude. So she crawled into his lap, her thighs straddling his. Her breasts pressed against his chest. Her hands cupped his face and she let him see a hint of the cat behind her eyes. "You can't hesitate, Damian. If you plan on claiming me, it has to be forcefully."

"I have no wish to hurt you, Isis," he replied steadily. His hands wrapped around her waist and held tight, his thumbs stroking gently against the shirt that kissed her skin.

"I'm not strictly human, Damian. I can take a little pain. The lioness doesn't want sweet and gentle. She wants a mate who is strong and powerful, who can protect her and the pride. And the best way to show that to her is by mating forcefully." She knew he understood her explanation by the way his grip on her tightened, the way his thumbs stopped moving. He was regarding her with such an empty look in his eyes that it made her heart ache.

"I have known violence all my long life, Isis. I have never known gentleness. I do not know if I can do as you ask without hurting you. I am still stronger than you are," he said softly. She could hear the regret in his voice.

A small lash of pain tore through her. She hadn't realized just how much he'd come to mean to her in the past few days. She didn't want to give him up. She knew that she didn't like Haven. Even if her lioness found him appealing, the human part of her didn't. She didn't want to mate with anyone else, no matter what her beast thought. "Do you want me, Damian? Don't answer right away. Think about it first. Make sure you know what you really want."

And he did think about it. She could see it in the way his eyes went slightly unfocused. The hold he had on her waist slackened and she swore she could feel him kind of slip away from her. She sat on his lap for what felt an eternity, watching as he simply became a living statue, as he turned the question over and over in his head. Tension spread through her as she worried over his answer. Even the lioness paced restlessly within, as anxious for his reply as she was. When he finally came back to himself, she thought she'd shatter with the waiting. Very slowly, his hands tightened on her waist again. His eyes met hers.

The smile he gave her made her heart flip in her chest. "Of course I want you. I want nothing more."

"Then you need to do this the way I tell you to," she replied, trying to keep hold of the excitement that raced through her. If her voice was a little unsteady, he said nothing about it. He merely nodded his head. "You need to be forceful. Not hurtful, but forceful. You need to dominate the lioness so she accepts you as her mate. If you're weak or gentle, she'll see you as unfit. No matter how I feel for you, she won't accept you."

"I understand. She needs a mate who will master her," he finally nodded. Isis felt a smile spread across her lips at that.

"Yes. She needs to be mastered. To know that she's safe. And to know that her pride is safe. It isn't about control. Not in the traditional sense of the word. Its about proving you're strong enough to rule the pride and protect them. Prove that to her and she'll have no need to accept Haven. Especially once you fight him and kick his ass," she grinned at that. Her words even drew a smile from him and she found she really liked the way it looked on his lips. "You'll still have to do that. Despite the way things have gone so far, you still have to defeat him in a show of power."

"I know he has been trying to woo you away from me." His words surprised her. She hadn't thought he knew about that. She merely shrugged her shoulders. She and the lioness had done their best to put Haven off, to give Damian a chance to get used to things. To realize that there was more to it than simply being able to call her to his side.

"That's why this is so important, Damian," she told him, her tone serious. He nodded, then simply stared at her helplessly.

"I am... unfamiliar with modern methods of enticing a woman to my bed. It has been a long time since I was faced with the need to do so. When I was mortal, one had no need to do such things. One simply took what one wanted," he explained. Isis smiled at that.

"Then take what you want," she whispered.

There was a moment of hesitation, where she thought he was trying to decide if she really meant what she'd said. Then his hands were on her face, dragging her mouth to his so that he could claim it in a fiery kiss. Isis moaned low in her throat and allowed him to press her chest against his. Any hesitation he'd felt before was impossible to detect in the masterful way his lips moved over hers. His arms were wrapped around her, his hands holding her so tightly that she could feel bones creaking under his touch.

Her beast, the golden lioness that lived within, growled and demanded she fight, insisted that she make him prove his power to her. Her fingers curled into his shoulders and she tried to push away, tested his hold on her. His grip tightened and her breath left her in a rush. She suddenly found herself on her back, the soft cushions of the couch cradling her shoulders and hips. Damian settled his weight on top of her, his body heavy as it drove her deeper into the sofa.

She gave a token struggle, little more than a test to see if he was as determined as she'd asked him to be. He merely kissed her harder, his fangs pricking at her lips as she opened her mouth to his. The tip of his tongue traced the edge of her lip, tasted the single drop of blood that had welled up in the tiny nick, then shoved into her mouth.

Their tongues slid along one another, dancing and dueling for control of the kiss. She could taste her blood there, as well as the slight, coppery tang of someone else's blood from his earlier feeding. The lioness reacted to that, growled as hunger filled her. She wanted more.

Before she could use her body to demand more of him, Damian stood and reached for her. She gave a squeal of surprise when he hefted her up as if she weighed less than a feather and easily tossed her over his shoulder. It was instinct, she was sure, a throw back to his days as a Viking. And she'd told him to take what he wanted. Laughter bubbled up her throat as he strode for the stairwell. He took the steps two at a time, his free hand holding tight to the railing to keep them from tumbling backward.

When they stepped into her bedroom, he tossed her onto the bed almost carelessly.

He found a lamp next to the bed and turned it on, then stood and looked down at her. She could see the predator lurking in his eyes. That thing that made him vampire was looking out at her and she thrilled to it. The lioness responded, pacing closer to the surface to peer back at him from her own eyes. "Strip off your clothing," he ordered, and she shuddered at the raw need in his voice. At the commanding tone he used. His words came out clipped and deep. Forceful.

Isis obeyed, her hands moving slowly, with a lithe animal grace that spoke to her other nature. His glittering green gaze followed her every movement, watched as she slipped the buttons of her blouse free of their holes. The silky garment was flung carelessly over the side of the bed. Then she stood in the center of her mattress, hands working at her jeans while her eyes remained fixed on his.

Her jeans and socks joined her shirt on the floor, leaving her standing in black lace panties and bra. She cocked a brow at him and motioned with one hand. "You have too many clothes on." Damian nearly tore his shirt off before the urgency in him died.

Soon enough, he was stripped bare, his clothes tossed carelessly over a chair in the corner. He said nothing, merely stared at her hard. She took the hint and reached behind her for the hooks on her bra. It dropped to the bed silently. She hooked her fingers in the elastic of her panties and slowly tugged them down. When they hit the bed, she kicked them off, her foot hooking the bra so that it went flying with her undies.

The two of them stood there, silently staring at one another. She took in every single turn and spill of muscle in his body. He still looked like the hardened warrior he'd been so long ago. She wasn't sure if the vampirism was what kept him in shape or if he actually worked out to maintain his muscular frame. Not that she cared. He was spectacular to look at.

His skin glowed in the soft light of her lamp, his hair shining bright and brilliant red. His eyes glittered as he watched her. She let her eyes move over him slowly, cataloguing each and every line and ripple she saw. Broad shoulders flowed down into a chest that had obviously seen much physical activity. His arms held that same look, built from wielding a heavy sword. His abs rippled with a perfectly formed six pack. His hips were narrow and a thin trail of red slid over his belly toward his groin. Powerfully formed thighs, perfectly shaped calves and long, elegant feet drew her eyes down to the floor. His erection was the last thing to draw her gaze.

The blood was pooled in his groin, flushing his shaft a dark pink color. It stood up straight, a silent demand for her. She thrilled at the sight, amazed by the knowledge that he wanted her so much. Licking her lips at the thought of what it would feel like to have him inside of her, she lifted her gaze to his. She was startled to see the hunger he felt for her shining from the depths of his green eyes.

To be honest, she wondered what he'd think of her. She bore scars that some people would find unattractive. But she'd always thought she had a decent body, her breasts neither too small nor too large. They were full and lush, a hint of perkiness to them that made people ask if she'd had them done. Her nipples were pointed straight at him, a wordless invitation. Her waist was narrow, her hips flared, and her limbs were shapely with muscles that had developed after she'd been infected. But she'd never truly given thought to her looks before. Not until now.

The desire in his gaze was enough to convince her that she looked just fine.

The two of them stood and stared at one another for several long seconds. She wondered, briefly, if he was having second thoughts about this. About them. Then the moment passed and, in the fraction of time that it took to blink her eyes, he moved and simply appeared on the bed next to her. Damian took her down to the bed and pinned her beneath his body, his mouth once more hard and demanding against hers.

Her mind took a minute or two to study his behavior. This was unlike the Damian she'd known before now. Always, he'd been reserved and careful. Cautious. This version of him was almost unhinged. She had to wonder just what his life as a vampire had been like, if he'd been told when he could and couldn't feed the most basic part within. The need to touch and be touched. The need to feel cherished. She liked the idea that she could do this to him, basked in the knowledge that she could drive him to such distraction.

Then those thoughts were shoved aside as his hands crawled over her flesh, touching every inch of her. His mouth fed at hers, his tongue slipping deep. Her nails grated over his shoulders, raked red lines in his back as she ground herself against him. The woman and the cat were of the same thought. They both needed him to take them, to subdue and dominate. To fuck them hard. She wrapped her legs around his waist, an entreaty that he didn't answer.

Instead, his mouth ghosted across her skin, pressing a trail of kisses over her. Raking his fangs against the delicate layers of tissue in order to draw tiny drops of blood to the surface. He licked them clean of her only to do it again and again. She buried her hands in his hair, twisted the strands around her fingers as she strained against his body and demanded more than he was giving.

When his lips closed over her swollen lips, her spine arched and a mewling sound of pleasure rushed up her throat. His hands caught her hips and pressed them down into the mattress so that she couldn't squirm against him. He ate at her like a man starved, feasting upon her juices as if they were her life's blood. If he occasionally dragged the tip of one fang over the plump flesh found there, she passed it off as accidental and only welcomed the rush of desire it shot through her.

Orgasm rolled through her like the tide coming in, drowning her senses and tossing her out into a sea of pleasure that left her feeling liquid, boneless and euphoric. He didn't stop. He continued licking at her, kept sliding his tongue up inside of her, feasted at her clit again and again. And he took her over the edge again and again, broke her on wave after wave of shining pleasure until she thought she'd shattered into thousands of pieces.

When she was left limp and wrung out on the mattress, he drew away from her. She could see a glistening of fluids on his lips and around it. Slowly, with a great deal of care, he licked her juices away from his skin. He watched her the entire time, just as she watched him. A shudder rippled down her spine at the raw sensuality of his actions.

Isis didn't know what to make of this Damian. She'd never seen him before. But she'd been the one to hand him the key that unlocked the door holding that part of him back. She'd told him to take what he wanted. And he was going to do so, in grand style. She thought that perhaps this is what he'd been like when he'd been alive, when he'd gone viking with his friends and family. Even just staring down at her the way he was, he seemed more vibrant, more alive and... just more.

"I want to see you on your hands and knees." His voice was low with his need, filled with command. She studied him briefly before smiling and rolling over. She took her time getting up on her hands and knees, making sure that her ass was popped up high. Tossing her head, she looked at him over her shoulder and wiggled at him.

"Come and get me, sailor," she said, winking at him.

He was on the bed in a heartbeat, hands grasping her curves. She could feel his legs surrounding hers, his hips molded to the curves of her ass. His cock was thick and swollen, nestled between her butt cheeks. She thrust back against him, rubbing herself along his length. She heard him swallow, such a very human thing to do. The noise was loud in the silence of the room. For just a moment, she wondered at it, wondered if he were unsure. But the thought passed and his fingers tightened around her hips to hold her in place.

Isis held herself still, held her breath as she waited for him to take her. The heat of his body never slid away from hers, but his hands moved, fingers ghosting up and down the softness of her skin as he stroked her spine. She shuddered when he touched her abdomen, hoping that his touch would turn more intimate. She wasn't disappointed.

One palm drifted up toward her breasts, his fingers seeking out her nipples. He pulled at them, pinched and squeezed until she was crying out with soft mewling sounds. The other hand slid between her thighs and she arched when his fingers brushed her clit. The slowness of his motions were incongruous next to the almost forceful way he'd thrown her over his shoulder and carried her up here. The careful, almost tender touches seemed out of place until she felt the tension of his muscles pressed against her own. And she realized, as he held her and caressed her, that he was trying to keep himself from losing control.

"Damian," she whispered, once more looking back at him over her shoulder. His eyes glowed with his desire. There was something wild and dangerous in his face, something that she suspected resided under the calm and cool image he presented to the world. "I don't break that easily."

It was the only encouragement he needed. His hands held her still while his hips drew back. He moved slowly, and the length of his shaft slid against her ass until she felt the head nudge her pussy lips. He froze for an instant, held himself there as if he were a statue. Then he plunged forward, his hips snapping so sharply that his thrust drove her a few inches across the mattress.

There was no tenderness to be found in his actions, nothing to suggest that he was anything other than the Viking warrior of legend. His fingers gripped her tightly, bit into her flesh until she knew that bruises formed beneath them. Each stroke was fast and hard, drove deep and bottomed out every time. In him, she felt centuries of pent up frustration and desire. That knowledge made her think that he could be far more violent and dangerous than she'd believed possible. Such a thing should have frightened her. He was stronger than she was, capable of destroying her with his bare hands. But she wasn't afraid.

Instead, she was thrilled by it.

Small tendrils of pain crept through her, entwined with the thick rush of pleasure that accompanied his thrusts. He was forceful, dominating, just as she'd asked him to be. The lioness loved it, rumbled her approval loudly. Isis joined her in that approval, her voice coming out in low, growling sounds that were spiked with desire. Kneeling on the bed on all fours, even with his hands curled so tightly around her hips, she found a way to rock back into him.

The sounds of flesh slapping flesh were loud in the room, rivaled only by the harsh rasp of her breath as it bellowed from her lungs. Her beast was stalking back and forth inside, eager to complete the mating. Eager to escape. She wanted out, wanted to run with her mate. She was willing to recognize him as such, even with Haven out there. Some part of her had already acknowledged that he was her mate, her Rex. She'd just needed proof. Once Damian dealt with Haven, there would be nothing to stop her from favoring him publicly.

Damian moved like a man possessed, as if he hadn't been allowed such freedom in a long time and feared he'd lose it again. Each thrust shoved his cock deep and he barely waited before drawing back to repeat the process. Her body clung to his, begged for more in the way it clutched at him and tried to hold him inside. And every forward stroke sent sparks tumbling up and down the length of her spine, along all the nerve endings in her system. The pleasure, the pain, the passion built until she thought she'd explode with it. She felt like she was swollen up with feeling, ready to burst with just a nudge.

She felt almost the same as she did when the moon grew full and fat and heavy, when fur slid against the inside of her skin and she wanted nothing more than to shed her humanity and become the sleek golden cat that lived within. This was almost like that, her body so full of emotion and feeling that she didn't understand how she could house that and the cat, too. She wanted to explode, wanted her skin to open so that the fullness could pour out of her. She needed relief, had to have it.

He was speaking, his voice soft and deep as it rolled over the sounds of their joining. But it wasn't English. It sounded, she thought, as if it were perhaps one of the Scandinavian languages, but couldn't be certain. She could only suspect that it was the language he'd originally spoken before he'd been turned. The words flowed, smooth and lilting as the ocean. She thought she heard the mention of Norse gods in his speech, but she couldn't be sure. She didn't even know if he was uttering blessings or curses.

Not that it mattered.

There was something almost magical about listening to him speak. She imagined what she thought he might be saying and the combination of those words, both imagined and real, were enough to start a chain reaction that shot from one nerve ending to the next. The flames that had been licking low in her belly sparked into a roaring bonfire that raced through her body, consuming her with the yearning desire for more.

Damian thrust harder and faster against her. She could sense his growing need, his impending release. It had stolen his control from him, leaving him almost a complete slave to his desires. The words fell faster from his lips, following the cadence of his hips as he pounded them against her. She was a living, breathing contradiction in feelings. Half of her body was alive with pleasure, the other half swamped in pain. Both clashed, fought for control within her, feeding one another until she didn't know where the rush of pleasure began and the stinging pain ended. She felt as if she were on the highest peak and in the lowest pit all at once.

The lioness was rutting with her, taking pleasure from him at the same time she was. Sounds that could have been hers or the cat's fell from her lips as she rocked back into him. She was seeking her completion just as he was, trying to rid herself of that oddly heavy and full feeling that had stolen over her. "Please, Damian! Please... I want..." she gasped at him, unsure what she was going to ask him for. She didn't know what she wanted anymore.

He did. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her up until her back was molded to his chest. He shifted with her until she was in his lap, his cock driving up into her from underneath. His hands moved, one slipping down between her thighs to stroke at her clit while the other drifted up, teased her breasts before gliding possessively over her throat. The pressure of his hand was almost non-existent, but she let him tilt her head to the side.

The touch of his fingers was soft and gentle, reverent. It sent a thrill through her because she knew what that touch meant. And it happened so fast, it made her head spin.

Damian pushed himself into her as far as he could go. She felt him swell within her, felt a twitch. The sensation was washed away as the fingers working her clit caught the small bundle of nerves between them and squeezed hard. Pain flashed through her and her body went tense, hips pressing down against him. His mouth laid a kiss to her throat, right where her pulse pounded, pulling a shudder up her spine. "You are mine now, Isis. I will not share with the lion. You are mine."

His words flooded her ears as another orgasm flooded her nerves. There was a scrape of fangs against the side of her throat, then he bit down and his body spasmed within hers. The feel of his seed filling her while he sucked her life's blood from her sent another orgasm rolling through her until she went weak from it. His arms held her tight, his hips making shallow thrusts in order to milk himself dry. When he was done, he lifted his mouth and licked at the puncture wounds on her neck.

"Yours," she whispered softly. Damian took them down to the bed, settling them against the mattress. It was easy work for him to tuck her under the blankets. She was tired from the blood loss, though the pleasure he'd given her played part in it, too. When he shifted away from her, Isis reached out and grasped limply at his hand. "Stay with me, Damian. Please?"

There was silence for a moment and she thought she could feel his hesitation on the air. Then he slid under the covers and molded his frame to hers. "I will stay. I will watch over you as you sleep, my sweet."

She fell asleep with a smile on her face.

 

 

Comments

[sessys-fangirl.livejournal.com]

I just had the strongest sense of deja vu from this chapter. The scene where Dolph and Zerbrowski are at the coalition's office. Did you have something like that in an earlier chapter?? >.< I wish I knew, but I just felt like I've read part of that before...Weird...

It was a really great chapter. You've given us much to chew on. It seems like Aedan can't keep Dolph in the dark like Anita could. He's knows something is going on and won't be deterred. I know he doesn't give a rats ass about stepping on toes, but hopefully he won't step too hard and run up against a silent lycanthropic wall. He alienates them, his investigation might stall. Hopefully that stubborn streak won't rear its ugly head. Same goes for the vamps. I think he's going to need them weather he wants them or not.

And yay for Damian and Isis action! W00T! That was hot girl..Damn. * fans herself cool to keep from short circuiting * I can't wait to see how they are going to deal with Haven. He's going to be pretty pissed at the latest development. :-D I can't wait...^_^

[ladydeathfaerie]

um... to be honest, your guess is as good as mine. it could be from the first chapter, when Anita died. the two of them kind of tag-teamed Aedan and Minette there. that's the only instance i can think of that might fit.

i don't think Aedan is trying to keep too much from Dolph. at this point in the story, she isn't lying when she says she has no personal relationship with Jean Claude. she sees the human servant deal as being a business arrangement. as for Dolph, we'll have to see what happens with him. part of the reason he knows something is going on is because he knew that something was going on with Anita and could never prove it. he recognizes the same kind of diversionary tactics Aedan is using from Anita.

chances are good he'll piss them off. but you'll have to wait and see...

and i'm glad you liked the interaction with Isis and Damian. i was hoping you would. yes, Haven is probably going to be pissed. and i'm sure they'll deal with him soon. make sure to have some ice water, that should help get rid of the hots.

more soon. promise.

[sessys-fangirl.livejournal.com]

You could be right, but I'm too lazy o check. ^^; And yeah, it seems that she [Aedan] is using the same tactics, but Anita was the master of it. Aedan is good so far, but..we'll see how good she really is.

As for Dolph, lets hope its not too bad. He is seriously going to need their help. They have vays of making you talk...[/fake German Nazi speak]

As for the ice water? Sounds like a good idea. Its going to get interesting with those three really fast. Just make sure its done outside. I don't think Isis wants to try and get blood and other bits of gore out of her carpets.

[dazzledfirestar.livejournal.com]

Holy... wow... oh my... *brain melts*

That was freakin' hot, hun! Oh my god! Mmm... vampire sex... *brain melts again*

And when or when will Dolph learn to mind his own business? *sigh* Some men... Wonderful work, hun! Brilliant chapter. :D

[ladydeathfaerie]

oddly, that vampire sex came easily, all things considered. i'm glad that you found it hot. hopefully, i can keep up the brain melting. though i'm going to try and steer away from sex for the time being. try to actuallly work on some plot.

hey! it could happen.

and Dolph is Dolph. so, yeah... he's going to be a shit. but he's only doing it because he cares. um... about something, i'm sure. don't know about that here lately.

glad you enjoyed, hon.

[nanaeanaven]

Dolph is no idiot. He didn't get where he is by ignoring his instincts. I think his interactions with everyone were all dead on. Good job.

And woo-hoo! Let's hear it for virile ex-viking vampires! (oh noes, it's alliteration!) That was damn hot, my dear. Very yummy!

[ladydeathfaerie]

no. Dolph is no idiot. and chances are good he'll get to the heart of the matter. i'm sure that will go over well, given his serious hate for vampires and the like. so we'll see what happens when we get there.

i'm glad you liked the smut. i was trying to go for something different for Damian. he'll be fun to play with because he isn't as set in stone as some of the other guys.

more to come soon. i think.

[ginevrasm.livejournal.com]

I think you did great with this chapter. It's nice to see some of the police work from the actual police's point of view. And maybe it is about time that Dolph and Zerbrowski interacted with the preternatural community without Anita as a buffer. A good learning experience for them.

Damian is fun to play with since he's relatively undefined compared to many of Anita's other men. Good work with Damian and Isis, not just with the smut, which was yummy, but with developing their relationship too.

[ladydeathfaerie]

yes, Dolph and Zerbrowski should probably interact with the community more than they do. though i think Zerbrowski would have less trouble with it than Dolph. and i kind of feel its important to show what's going on from everyone's point of view because there is so much and, you know, everyone sees it differently.

and yes, Damian is fun to play with. so much potential in his character and she's got him far too... docile for a former Viking. even with what his Master did. i liked being able to delve into that. i think the burgeoning relationship is probably on far more stable ground than any of the other relationships here. sure, Janika and Asher's is established, but... i don't know. Isis and Damian just feel as if they're more stable, despite the fact that they've really only just gotten together.

[ginevrasm]

Whew! I was having a sleepy day at work but I’m awake now. Still holds up. Excellent reading. :)

[ladydeathfaerie]

glad it still holds up. and i'm glad it helped wake you up!