The Mary Sue Virus: Beyond Death

[ladydeathfaerie]

Title: The Mary Sue Virus: Beyond Death
Chapter Thirty One: The Road to Redemption
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.

Author's Notes: this has a crime scene in it. i dunno how graphic it is. but i just thought i'd prepare ya for it.

The Mary Sue Virus: Beyond Death - Index Link 

Lights of blue and red and white flashed in staccato rhythm, breaking up the darkness that was spread over the sky like a blanket. It was really late at night. Or really early in the morning, depending upon who you were. There were more than a dozen squad cars in the driveway and on the street around the small, boxy house. Yellow crime scene tape ran around the perimeter of the lawn, cutting off access to the house from anyone not wearing a badge. Cops stood thick as thieves on the lawn and the sidewalk surrounding the residence, talking to one another or simply looking intimidating to keep gawkers at bay. And there were a lot of them this time.

All of the lights must have attracted the attentions of the media. Or perhaps it went out over the radio when someone was listening in. Unlike the last house, there were three or four news vans on scene. Reporters and their camera crews were setting up at one corner of the cordoned off yard, lights blaring brightly against the darkness while the perfectly made up, perfectly coiffed blood hounds spoke into their mics. Something in the pit of her stomach told her that this one was going to be worse.

Aedan turned off the engine of her car and leaned back in her seat. Damn, she was tired. Far too much had been happening lately and she'd been missing sleep. Meals, too. If she didn't get it back under control soon, someone would notice. Or get hurt. That was the last thing she wanted to do. It didn't matter that the men she was having sex with were stronger than she was. When the need took control, she could see from the outside what kind of person she turned into. She didn't like it one bit.

Gods, she didn't want to go inside that house. She did not want to see the horrors that awaited her this time. She still hadn't gotten the image of those small bodies from her head. She didn't want to add any more to the mix. She didn't think she'd ever get used to seeing the bodies, all mangled torsos and torn limbs. She'd never forget the smell of spilt blood and bowels. She did not want to go in there.

Closing her eyes for a moment, she was bombarded by the exhaustion and the ever present fear. Sleep pressed her, tried to pull her under. It would be so easy to slip into its waiting arms and simply let it consume her. But the fear would take hold again if she let that happen. It would invade her dreams and leave her a quivering mass of useless limbs. That fear had ruled her life once before and it had driven her to extreme measures. She never wanted it to take hold again. The only way to keep it at bay was to keep going, keep doing the things that scared her most, keep facing those fears and shoving them back. That meant going inside.

Dolph didn't really need her. Surely he'd seen enough weird shit that he could form his own opinions. All she had to do was turn the engine over, put the car in gear and get the hell out of there. But then she'd have to run and keep running. She'd never be her own person again, always looking over her shoulder for a familiar face. And, eventually, someone would find her. It wouldn't matter if she could just disappear for a while, if she could simply fade out of existence and...

As if knowing her thoughts, her phone rang. The sharp chirping sound jerked her out of her thoughts and guilt washed over her. Dolph was counting on her, as were the people of St. Louis, even if they didn't know it. She fished the cell out of her pocket and glanced at the screen. What she saw on the display made her groan and she seriously considered ignoring the call and shoving her phone back into her pocket.

Ignoring the call would be the worst thing she could do. With a heavy sigh and no small amount of unhappiness, she hit the button to connect the call and put the phone to her ear. "Kinkade."

"What are you doing driving around at this time of night without a bodyguard, Aedan?" Edward's voice was perfectly pleasant and perfectly empty. If she hadn't seen him pissed off the night before last with her own eyes, or as close to pissed as she'd ever seen him, she wouldn't have believed the man capable of such an emotion. He sounded far too cool and collected for her own good.

"I got called to a crime scene and, quite frankly, I'm in a really shitty mood right now. Maybe you should hang up and call me back at a better time. Like when I'm sleeping or in the middle of having sex with someone," she snapped, unable to stop herself. At this point, she didn't care what he did to her. "Now why don't you go away and fuck yourself?"

Silence poured across the line. It was so absolute that she couldn't even hear him breathing. Then there was a soft sound that could have been a chuckle. "I'm going to let that slide, Aedan. I can hear the exhaustion in your voice. Go inside and deal with your crime scene. I'll be waiting when you get out."

The line went dead without another word and it took everything in her not to throw the phone. It would have been a stupid, useless gesture. It wasn't as if it was the phone's fault that shit was seriously fucked up at the moment. And it wasn't the phone she was angry at in the first place. But she did use far more force than necessary to snap the cell closed. The sound was loud in the silence of her car, like the firing of a gun. Heaving a sigh, she gathered up her badge and clipped it to the shirt she'd put on when she'd dressed. Comfortable as Richard's shirt had been, showing up in it would have been unprofessional and it would have invited speculation that would have resulted in a few assault charges being tossed her way.

Aedan glanced around and was relieved to find that no one had noticed her yet. Her job would be ten times as difficult if the press got wind of who she was. They'd be in her face in a heartbeat, trying to suck the life from her in the form of questions about whether or not she thought she could do the same job Anita Blake had done. She was fucking tired of being compared to a dead woman.

A dead woman who'd died in her arms. A dead woman she hadn't been able to save.

Muttering a few choice swear words under her breath, Aedan opened the door to her car and stepped out. Completely ignoring the small group of press and the gathered throng of gawkers, she strode purposefully toward the nearest uniform standing guard at the yellow tape. He had his mouth open before she was within ten feet and Aedan flashed her badge in his face. "Detective Storr called me."

"Of course," the young man nodded and lifted the yellow tape. "Right this way, Miss Kinkade."

The media sharks spied her as she was crossing under the tape and they swarmed in her direction, shouting questions loudly over one another in the hopes that she'd be able to hear them, understand them, and answer them. It took everything in her not to run for the door. She didn't allow herself to look back toward the mob, simply walked with her back ramrod straight toward a man in a suit waiting for her on the other side of the door.

"Miss Kinkade? I'm Detective Clive Perry. Dolph asked me to escort you to the crime scene," the man told her. He was a tall, slender black man and he seemed slightly uncomfortable with his task.

"First of all, call me Aedan. Second, I'll apologize now and avoid the rush to do so later," she told him. He shot her a confused look, so she pushed on before he could ask the question. "I'm sure you knew Anita well. I'm not the most popular person among those who worked with her or were her friends. If there was something I could have done to save her, I would have gladly done it."

He blinked at her for a moment or two, then shook his head. "I think perhaps we're the ones who owe you an apology. You've been thrust into an unenviable position and no one has made an attempt to make it easier on you. Anita was a colleague and a friend. Her loss is difficult for all of us. It must be doubly so for you because we expect you to have saved her while at the same time expecting you to be her."

Aedan stared for a moment or two, positively flustered. "I... Thank you, Detective Perry." She glanced around the entryway, then made a motion with one hand. "Perhaps we should go see the crime scene now. Before Dolph has a cow."

Perry chuckled at the comment. "I can't picture Detective Storr having a cow. But you're right. He's waiting for you and he dislikes being kept waiting," Perry told her, then motioned her ahead of him. She stepped forward and allowed him out of the entryway. When the man stood before her, he began the trek toward the crime scene.

They wound their way through a cluttered living area. It was filled with old newspapers and empty pizza boxes. Several empty glasses littered the coffee table and its matching end tables. The furniture was old but comfortable, well worn and affectionately used. A moderate sized television held a place of honor on a stand in the middle of one wall, surrounded by a stereo system and a couple racks of movies and music. It looked like the house of a group of college students.

He took her into a hallway that obviously led to the bedrooms. There were four doors and all of them stood open. The bathroom was the first one they passed. It was clean and neat, which contrasted deeply with the living area. A pair of uniforms stood outside one of the doors, telling her where they were heading. They stopped and Detective Perry handed her another pair of booties. She slipped them on, then wiggled her fingers into a pair of latex gloves. When she was ready, she gave a nod. The two uniforms stepped aside and Aedan stepped through the doorway into the room beyond.

Everything was red. The floor, the ceiling, the windows... Every last bit of furniture was soaked in crimson. Lamps and pictures were liberally splashed. She didn't think there was a spot in the entire room that wasn't colored in bright, bloody red. She had to stop and swallow several times before she was sure she wouldn't vomit where she stood. She was acutely aware of several sets of eyes on her and she looked up to find that Dolph was watching her closely. Zerbrowski was next to the other man, offering her the slightest hint of sympathy. Two or three others stared at her as if they expected her to do a nifty little trick.

"Kinkade. Thank you for coming. I know its late," Dolph inclined his head. She noted that he was standing in front of the actual scene, as if he knew that seeing it straight off would drive her back out of the room. It was bad enough to smell death on the air without having the chance to steel herself for seeing it.

"Don't worry about it, Detective Storr. I wasn't sleeping yet anyway. And this is my job," she replied evenly. "Shall we get on with this?"

He nodded, then looked at Zerbrowski. The other man nodded and drew a battered notepad from his pocket. "The house belongs to a Dominic Perkins. His son and two of his son's friends lived here while they attended college. All three of them were juniors. They shared rent and utilities and were generally unobtrusive to the neighbors."

"No complaints about wild parties?" Aedan found herself surprised by the last. Zerbrowski shook his head and tucked his notepad away. "How did it get in?"

Dolph frowned. "How did what get in?"

"The demon," Aedan glanced around, hoping for cool and detached. One hand gestured to a lamp that still dripped with blood. "How did it get into the house? The door I came in through wasn't torn from its hinges like the last house. So how did it get in?"

"Back door," Dolph replied. "You're sure this was done by a demon? You haven't seen the bodies yet."

"There's far too much blood for it to have been a human perpetrator," she waved a hand at the ceiling. "And we discussed the other major nasties last time around. This already bears striking similarities to the last one. So how did the demon get in if it didn't come in through the front entry?"

"It came in through the kitchen door," Dolph told her and Aedan thought she heard a touch of pride in his voice. Then he moved and pointed behind him, toward the floor that had been hidden by his and other men's legs. She'd purposely been avoiding looking at it. There was no way to avoid it any further. "Tell me what you see."

There were three distinct lumps of torn flesh that she suspected had once been the son of Dominic Perkins and his friends. The lights that shone in the room were too muddied with ruby liquid to see by properly. It was one of the few things she was grateful for. The lack of light did nothing to dispel the stench of death that hung in the air. Her nose was clogged with it and, for a moment, Aedan thought she was going to pass out. But the feeling faded and she set about being the professional that Dolph thought she was.

Remembering the last scene, she'd already put her hair up in a bun at the back of her head so it wouldn't drag in the blood. With slow, careful steps, she crossed the floor to where the victims lay waiting for her. No one spoke as she began to examine pieces of meat tossed here and there, silently cataloguing what she was seeing. Mostly what she found were pieces of muscle that had been ripped away from the bones they'd been attached to or the organs they'd protected. There were a few bits of flesh mixed in with the pieces of meat on the floor. More of them clung stubbornly to the wall, making little islands of white against a sea of red.

She moved to the actual bodies last, leaving them until she was sure she'd be able to look them over with a clinical eye. They were clustered close together, as if they'd died holding on to one another. As with the family at the last scene, she found that they were missing organs, that their stomachs had been chewed on by teeth not meant to be seen in this world. Thick, grayish-white ropes of entrails were pulled out and left laying amidst the blood like so much forgotten yarn batted about by a kitten. Torn skin showed where claws had ripped through delicate tissue. Arms and legs had been ripped away from the bodies and left tossed in a corner, as if the demon had been playing with dolls.

The more she looked, the more she realized that there was something off this time. Something that she hadn't seen the last time. It finally hit her, her eyes and brain coming together at last to let her see what it was she'd been blocking from herself, and she was hit again with the sensation that she was going to pass out. All three torsos were just that. Torsos. Their arms and legs weren't the only things that had been ripped away.

"Where..." she stopped and cleared her throat, pleased to note that there was a curious detachment in her tone. "Where are their heads?"

One of the other men moved and Aedan's eyes were drawn to the small pile that had been hidden behind his legs. She clearly saw the shape of human heads, but her brain refused to see anything more. Mindful of the slippery mess beneath her feet, her steps were cautious as she made toward the mass of flesh. Squatting, she made certain to study it closely until she could actually see every detail.

Blood plastered the hair to the scalps, and she only vaguely made note that one was blonde while the other two sported dark brown tresses. One had a moustache. Lips were slack, mouths wide with screams of surprise or pain. Strings of meat trailed through the blood, white bits of bone shining starkly against the red background. Their eyes were closed and... Aedan frowned. There was something about the eyes that bugged her and she reached for one set of lids before her hand halted halfway there. "The eyes are gone, Detective Storr," she told him softly.

"Are you certain?" His voice came from directly behind her. She hadn't heard him move and she was more than surprised that such a big man made so little noise.

"Yes. The eyelids are slightly sunken, indicating that there's nothing behind them." She finished reaching and carefully pried the lids over one eye open. It was difficult as they were glued by drying blood, but she managed to get them apart and show him the gaping hole they'd been hiding. She heard Zerbrowski mutter under his breath.

"Would there be a reason for the demon to take the eyes?" Dolph asked, his voice more cop than usual. She gave it consideration and shook her head.

"I'm not sure. It could have been ordered to do so for a specific reason or it simply could have been something the demon decided to do. I'm really not an expert in the way demons work," she shook her head. "I'm sure you looked before I got here, but the organs are gone from these bodies just like they were with the last group. Have your men looked for any kind of brass fittings in the floor yet?"

"No. We haven't. Do you think there's one here?"

She made a vague gesture toward the room around them. "The furniture is all pushed up against the wall, leaving the floor completely open. I didn't feel any energy when I came in, but that doesn't mean anything. Magic fades after a while. It could be that the circle died some time ago. Or it could be that none was cast."

"They'll be looking for it when we start clean up," he commented. "Is there anything else?"

"Do you have a penlight?" she asked, holding her hand up. He dropped a small flashlight into her hand. Aedan flicked it on and shined it into the open mouths. Her stomach flopped over and she felt a gurgle of queasiness bubble at the back of her throat. She swallowed it down. "I'm sure the medical examiner will be able to tell you for sure, but I believe their tongues were ripped out of their heads."

She flicked the light off and slowly rose to her feet, then handed it to Dolph. He took it, his expression grim. His gaze shot past her toward the small pile of heads at her feet and she could see the displeasure in his expression that said this was three deaths too many. She'd seen it on his face that day in that family's basement, standing over the bodies of three small children and their parents. He wanted this case solved last week. "Is there anything else you can tell me, Kinkade?" He asked the question without looking at her.

"Its the same demon. I'm fairly certain the same person who ordered the demon to kill that family ordered it to kill these boys. If there's a circle in the floor, then we have a commonality. It would mean that the person doing this is targeting practitioners. If this turns out to be the case, look for links between them. It might help turn up whoever is responsible for this carnage."

Dolph nodded his head once, a swift, curt motion that belied the tension he felt. He wanted to end the murders so badly that Aedan could practically see it on him. "If you have nothing else for me, Detective Storr, I'd like to go take a look at the kitchen door, then I'll be on my way."

"Clive. Show her to the kitchen," Dolph ordered, turning to look at the man hovering in the hallway just beyond the open door.

"Of course. Miss Kinkade? If you'd come with me, please," Detective Perry responded, turning to look at her. Aedan nodded, then crossed the room one last time. She was careful in her steps and did her best not to look at anything for too long. Claw marks and hand prints on the walls caught her eyes and she couldn't stop the shudder that rolled up her spine. The boys had fought against their deaths. To their deaths. Gods help her, she had to find a way to put a stop to this.

Aedan removed the booties as she stepped over the threshold, carefully dropping them into a basket that had been set up to catch discarded protective wear. Her gloves went with them, then she was following Perry back the way they'd came. In the living room, they took a turn to the left and entered a kitchen that was as messy as the living room had been. She thought it odd that the bathroom had been neat when the rest of the house appeared to be the typical college student's domain.

What she found in the kitchen was enough to make her knees go weak. The back door had been torn off its hinges and lay on the ground outside. More claw marks marred the walls, the kitchen table and the counter tops. There were deep gouges in the tile on the floor, left behind when the demon had dug its feet in to the linoleum squares. Something caught her eye and she knelt down to study it. Dark specks of something that could be blood were scattered over the floor. If blood were nearly black. "Detective Perry?"

"Yes, Miss Kinkade?" he came to kneel close to her, carefully angling his body so that it didn't block the light.

"Have the crime scene people take samples of this. I think it might be the demon's blood. If it is, it means that it can be hurt. And one of those boys knew how to do it."

"I'll let Detective Storr know," he assured her. She suspected Dolph had already seen the stuff and had left orders for it to be sampled. But she wouldn't be doing her job if she didn't point it out to him. Nodding, Aedan rose to her feet. And wobbled where she stood. One of the black man's hands reached out to steady her. "Are you alright, Miss Kinkade?" he asked her, concern in his voice.

"Just... I believe I need fresh air. Thank you, Detective Perry. I can manage. I think I'm going to go home now." She carefully pulled free of his grasp and tested her steps. They felt firm and she moved for the door.

"Allow me to walk you out, Miss Kinkade," he stepped up beside her. While his hand didn't touch her, she saw the intent in his posture. He wanted to be handy if she took a spill. She offered him a smile, which he returned. "We can't have you going down in front of the press. It wouldn't look good at all."

"Nor would it look good for you to be escorting me out of the building with your hand on my elbow," she laughed. His eyes crinkled with good humor at the comment and he inclined his head to her. Aedan led the way out of the kitchen, down a set of steps that came out along side the driveway. She turned toward the front and was blinded by sudden light when she came around the side of the house.

The media was in full swing and several white lights swung on to her as she came into sight. She heard Perry mutter something and took it to mean he didn't like the idea of the media being there anymore than she did. She searched for her car beyond the lights and frowned to find a familiar blonde head between her and the vehicle. Damn him. Why couldn't he let her be? And he'd seen her, too, which meant there was no way to sneak past him. She glanced up at the man beside her and smiled. "There's no need to walk me to the tape. I'll be fine."

"The vultures are already circling," he replied and motioned slightly with one hand toward the cameras. "I don't want to leave you to their tender mercies."

"I'll be fine, Detective Perry. Honest." Aedan offered him a smile and motioned vaguely in the direction of her car and the man waiting for her. "I'm right there. I can make it to my car without being swarmed."

"Allow me to run interference." His tone suggested it wasn't a request. Aedan realized that perhaps he was right. The media would be able to put two and two together and she really wasn't in the mood to deal with questions surrounding Anita's death. She gave a nod and allowed him to follow her toward the tape.

Almost at once, the cameras and their attached reporters began moving toward the spot they thought that the two of them would reach. Aedan was more than aware of Edward's gaze locked on her. While she didn't want to deal with him, she was tired and didn't know if she'd be able to make it home without having an accident. She wasn't sure if the dizziness that had assaulted her inside the house had been because of the crime scene or if it was because of something else. She tried to remember when she'd last eaten and honestly couldn't recall it. Shit. No wonder she was all fucked up.

The voices started calling when they were only a handful of feet from the tape. "Detective Perry, who's the woman with you? Is she a survivor?" and "What happened in the house, Detective? Did someone die?" and "Detective, is this woman helping with the investigation?" That question started them on a new tangent and Aedan felt her stomach drop to her feet. "Detective, is this the woman who's taken Anita Blake's place?" and "Miss, can you tell us what you're doing here?" The worst one, though, was enough to nearly drive her to her knees. "Miss Kinkade. What happened the night Anita Blake died? Sources say you were there. How did she really die?"

She felt Detective Perry lean in close to her, his hand on her back offering her a sense of stability that had suddenly fled. "Go on to your car, Miss Kinkade. Allow me to handle this."

"Thank you, Detective Perry. I owe you coffee and the donut of your choice," she returned, throat tight as the fear swallowed her down. He said nothing, simply pushed her toward the tape before turning to head for the cluster of reporters. A few gestures of the man's hands sent a pair of uniforms to the spot where Edward stood. They kept any of the reporters from getting too close and Aedan found she was thankful beyond words for the man's consideration.

Even with the cops there, one of the reporters was waiting for her when she crossed under the tape. A camera was pointed in her direction and the reporter was eyeing her as if she were the most exotic thing on the menu. "Miss Kinkade, can you tell me about the night Anita Blake died? What happened? Did you help her or did you leave her to die?"

Aedan struggled for something to say, struggled to keep her composure. For the first time in weeks, she was drowning in the fear she'd managed to put behind her while in college. The instinct to run consumed her and she would have done just that, if not for the hand on her arm. She hadn't realized someone had taken it. She glanced up and found Edward there at her side, one hand curled around her arm while he guided her across the street toward her car. For whatever reason, the reporter had slunk back to the rest of her ilk and left them alone.

Neither of them spoke as they reached the car. Edward handed her into the passenger's seat, made sure her seatbelt was engaged, then went around the front end to climb in on the other side. She watched absently as he slipped the keys into the ignition and turned the engine over. It wasn't until the car was in gear and easing into traffic that she realized it wasn't her vehicle at all. "Edward?"

"You're in no shape to drive. I'll have Jean Claude send someone for it." He didn't take his eyes from the road. Sighing, she closed her eyes and leaned back into the leather seat. She could handle relaxing, if only for just a moment. But there was no peace to be had. Images swirled in her brain, tainted red with blood and grisly to look upon. Even worse were the faces that she'd tried not to memorize. They stared up at her out of the thick soup of crimson, begging and pleading to know why she hadn't saved them. Their hands reached for her, tried to pull her down into death with them, and she fought. With all of her strength, she tried to get away. But they wouldn't let her go, held her tighter and...

"Aedan! Wake up!" Edward's voice cut across the nightmare and jerked her out of the hands of the dead. They were still in the car, though it was now parked, and she recognized that they were in the Circus' lot. A quick glance showed her that they were alone. One of his hands still rested on her shoulder, a heavy weight that helped tie her to reality. His gaze was clouded, nothing in it for her to read. When he opened his mouth to speak, she prepared herself for a blast of his temper. What he said, though, wasn't at all what she'd expected. "You're as pale as I've ever seen you. What the hell is going on?"

"I can't do this, Edward," she whispered. Her hands scrabbled for the seatbelt, suddenly overcome with the need to get out of the car. She wanted to run and never look back. There was a click and the belt released its hold on her. The handle on the door was easier to manipulate. She wasn't surprised when she staggered from the vehicle into the blonde's waiting arms. She was too far gone to truly make note of the fact that he was holding her close to him in what was meant to be a soothing manner. "Their faces... I keep seeing their faces. How did she do this and not lose her mind? How?"

"You bend with the violence, Aedan. Don't try to push it away. Just bend with it. Remember what you see and use it to keep you going forward. Remember each death so that you never forget that we're all animals. Some of us are worse than others and its our job to put those animals down." The words barely made sense but she clung to them in the same way she clung to him. He'd been a constant, frightening and familiar, for the past four years. She might be afraid of him, but he'd never done anything to hurt her.

She stumbled and only vaguely realized that they were moving. She couldn't bring herself to care. All that mattered was that his hands tightened their hold on her and he was warm when she felt so cold. Then Edward's hold was gone and she was being passed off to someone else. Cool power, as dead as the grave, wrapped around her to make her feel safe. Distantly, some part of her recognized that she was perhaps going into shock or something similar, but she couldn't bring herself to care. This was a different kind of death and it felt good. She let herself sink into it, barely registering the words that floated over her head.

"Thank you, Edward. I will take care of her."

"Her car is back at the crime scene." There was a faint pause. "Whatever happened tonight rattled her. Make sure she rests and eats. I'm holding you personally responsible for her health. Do not disappoint me."

"Of course not. It is unwise to disappoint Death."

"Damn right it is."

~*~*~*~*~

Minette stared across the table and frowned. In the entire time she'd known Aedan, she'd never seen her friend this pale or withdrawn. Ever. She'd been awake last night when the other woman had returned from another crime scene and she'd been alarmed when Jean Claude had carried Aedan into his underground lair as if she were little more than a child. Without needing to ask, Minette had gone with him to help. She hadn't been surprised when he'd carried his burden to his room. Together, she and the vampire had stripped Aedan of her clothes and gotten her cleaned up. Then Jean Claude had tucked her into his bed and curled up beside her. The last thing Minette had seen was the man's pale hand gently stroking Aedan's hair away from her face while he whispered to her softly in French.

Minette had been at her side when she'd woken earlier. Aedan had been confused at first, then her temper had surfaced quickly and she'd thrown herself from Jean Claude's bed while she'd thrown curses around. Minette had followed after her friend as the woman had stalked toward her rooms, swathed in one of his shirts and glaring daggers at anyone who got in her way. It had taken forever to convince Aedan that she needed to eat something but only seconds to talk her into going to a restaurant where they could be alone.

Their waitress, a worn down looking woman who was a few years past her expiration date, settled their meal before them, along with the appetizer that Minette had ordered as an add on. After checking to make sure they had everything they needed, the woman left and Minette turned her attention to her friend. "Eat. You look like shit. When was the last time you had a meal?" Minette ordered, pushing the plate of onion rings, chicken strips and mozzarella sticks toward the other woman. Aedan scowled at her, but scooped up one of the pieces of chicken and dipped it in barbeque sauce.

"I honestly can't remember," Aedan replied in a voice lacking concern. It was Minette's turn to scowl.

"What the hell is wrong with you? You know better than to go without food. What are you thinking? Do you want to kill yourself? Is that it? I talked to Richard last night. He said you were wild and he was afraid you'd hurt yourself. You know better, Aedan."

She tossed the chicken strip down on her plate and crossed her arms over her chest, turning a glare on Minette. "Stop trying to be my mother."

"Then stop acting like a child. Damn it, Aedan. You can't do this."

"Why not? Its my life."

"Not anymore. It isn't just your life anymore," Minette replied, her voice quiet so that no one would overhear their conversation. The restaurant was fairly empty and there were few patrons but this was supposed to be private. "Or have you forgotten that we're bound together now? Have you forgotten why we're here?"

"Like I can forget," she snorted and turned to wave down their waitress. When the woman ambled over, Aedan added to their order. "Bring me something with alcohol in it."

"Sure thing, hon. Anything in particular?" the waitress asked.

"No. Just make sure it has lots of alcohol in it." The woman nodded and turned to leave. Minette gaped at the woman across from her. Before she could open her mouth to protest, Aedan spoke over her. "Don't, Minette. Just don't. I'm only having one. Its for medicinal purposes."

"Aedan, this isn't going to help. You need a clear head."

"For what, Minette? If my head were any clearer, I'd have shot myself by now." Aedan's voice was soft, filled with pain. So was the link between them. It was overflowing with pain. And fear. For whatever reason, Aedan was afraid and that worried Minette. "No one will let me forget why I'm here. I keep following in, walking in, her fucking footsteps. They all expect me to be her. I can't do it. I can't be her. I can't do this job anymore. I just... I can't."

"No one expects you to be her, Aedan. I think you're putting too much pressure on yourself," Minette said, falling silent when the waitress approached with a glass of amber liquid. She set it before the other woman and offered a smile.

"Can I get you ladies anything else?" she asked

"No, thank you. I think we're good for now," Minette shook her head. The waitress wandered off again, allowing Minette to turn her attention back to Aedan. "Why do you think they want you to be like her?"

"The crime scenes. The zombie raisings. All of it. I can't do it. Not all of it. I can handle the animating jobs. I can handle being human servant to the undead Casanova of St. Louis. But I don't think I can go to another crime scene. I can't see that again. Not again."

All thoughts of food forgotten, Minette reached across the table and took one of Aedan's hands in hers. "Tell me. What did you see?"

"Bodies," Aedan whispered, eyes flicking away to look out the window on her right. The fingers on her free hand toyed with the glass of liquor before her, but she made no move to drink from it. "There was blood everywhere."

"Was it the demon again?" Minette made sure to whisper the question. When the other woman said nothing, she frowned and squeezed the hand she held. "How bad was it?"

"They were in college. Not really too much younger than we are now. Men. And they were reduced to torn limbs and scored flesh. Three of them. Nothing more than piles of flesh and bone." The tone of Aedan's voice suggested she was back in the house where the demon had slaughtered the men, seeing the scene again. She'd been too exhausted last night to dream, too physically and emotionally wiped out to relive what she'd seen in nightmares. Minette knew, had slept with her all night. If Aedan had dreamed, it hadn't been anything she recalled. But now, in the light of day, there was nothing to hold the horror back.

"Stay with me, Aedan. It can't hurt you. You're stronger than this. You can do this."

"It took their eyes. Their tongues. It treated them like they were nothing more than snacks." Aedan's voice was steady and calm. Completely empty. As were her eyes when she turned them to look at Minette. "It ate away at them and left behind shattered corpses and shattered lives. Those boys had family and friends. How are they supposed to find closure with nothing more than parts? How can the police expect me to find who's doing this when I don't even understand it?"

"You do what you can, Aedan. You knew that when you started the training course for the Federal Marshal program. You aren't God, Aedan. You can't save everyone. Whether you believe it or not, you're only human. You might not have been able to stop that thing from killing those boys, but you can damn well make sure it doesn't get away with it. Your job is to make sure that the demon is sent back and the person who called it up pays for what they've done with it."

"I see their faces, Minette. Those boys. That family. They're asking me why. And I don't have an answer for them." Finished, Aedan pulled her hand out from under Minette's and lifted the glass of amber liquid to her lips. Minette simply sat and watched her, all desire to eat gone for the moment.

For as long as she'd known her, Aedan had always been practical. Almost cold. Minette had never quite understood where it came from. Nor had she understood how the woman had managed to shun every single person she'd met in college, but she'd befriended a painfully shy and introverted Minette as easily as she took a breath or opened and closed her eyes. She'd always been grateful for the other woman's friendship and had never questioned it or Aedan's disinterest in everyone else around her.

But it seemed that that coldness, that practicality, had suddenly disappeared. Left behind was a scared little girl. It was someone that Minette didn't know. It made her wonder if the woman she knew as Aedan Kinkade was truly the real version or a facsimile. For a moment, just a moment, she wondered if she really knew her friend at all. The thought that, just maybe, this was the real Aedan Kinkade left her with a feeling of dread inside.

Had their positions reversed? During their four years in school together, Aedan had always been the one to protect, to shelter and guide. She'd always been the one to hold things together when the shit had crashed in around Minette's head. Now here was she was, doing the same for a woman who'd held her up for a long time. Aedan had been the one to give her the courage to seek shelter from another pard, to find a new home for herself where Bruce couldn't touch her. It seemed odd that she was now the one who had to hold things up.

Not that she wouldn't do it. She owed so much to the woman sitting across from her. Things she could never find ways to repay. If Aedan needed her to be her strength, she'd do it. She wouldn't complain and she wouldn't argue. She'd be the support that Aedan needed, for as long as she needed it. The two of them would find a way through this latest nightmare together. It was the least Minette could do for her friend.

Turning back to her meal, she found that Aedan was busy chewing a bite of her steak. Some of the desolation had left her eyes and a touch of color had returned to her cheeks. Either she'd managed to push aside what was bothering her or her hunger had overpowered everything else. Minette was willing to bet it was the latter. Content that her friend was taking care of herself for the moment, Minette turned her own attention over to the plate of pasta she'd ordered.

The meal was consumed in silence. She was pleased to see that both the food on Aedan's plate and the appetizer were disappearing without any prompting on Minette's part. When she finished with her food, she pushed the plate aside and spent the next few minutes watching the other woman pack away the last of her steak. The baked potato that had come with her meal had long since been consumed, as had the appetizers. When Aedan finally pushed her dishes away and sat back against the bench, some of her usual expression had reasserted itself.

"I'll try, Minette," she said softly, as if it was hard to force the words out.

"I know this isn't easy for you. But I know you can do this. The cops can't solve this case without you and those people, that thing's victims, they need you to speak for them. They need to you find the demon and its summoner and end it." Aedan nodded, her gaze once more going to the window. "And I promise I'm going to be here for you, to help you deal with it."

"I know, Minette. And I appreciate it. I..." Aedan turned back to her and the words died. She watched as her friend focused past her, toward the doorway behind her. And she watched as Aedan's hand moved blatantly toward the gun holstered under her arm. "Fuck me."

"Aedan?" Minette asked.

"We have company," she replied. Minette turned to look over her shoulder and felt all the color drain from her face. Coming toward their table at a leisurely stroll was Bruce. He wore a smug expression on his face and his entire posture screamed confidence and attitude. Behind him were two other men, both old members of Bruce's pard. They were strong alphas and had been a thorn in Minette's side when she'd been part of the group. She faced Aedan again and noticed that the woman appeared relaxed despite the hold she had on her weapon.

A look passed between them in the blink of an eye and she knew by the way Aedan's shoulders slouched even further that, for the time being, she was willing to let Minette handle this. Just as Bruce came into her line of sight, Aedan picked up the glass of whatever liquor the waitress had brought her and swallowed it down.

Bruce and his two groupies stopped at the edge of the table. For several long moments, they said nothing as they simply stared at Minette. Bruce hadn't changed much since Minette had last seen him. That had been a few short days before graduation, when she'd told him she wasn't coming back to his pard. He'd been amused at first, but that had quickly shifted into rage when he'd realized she'd been serious. He'd managed to nearly break her arm before Aedan had stepped in and put an end to his temper in the form of her Browning.

He was still whipcord lean and the cut of his clothes did nothing to hide the fact. Hair a shade of non-descript brown was cut into a moderate style and he'd brushed it back from his face, though a few token bangs hung over his forehead. Eyes that were hedging on golden stared out of a handsome face when it didn't wear a sneer of arrogance, as it did now. After a few seconds, though, the sneer faded away and became a faint smile. For the first time in a long time, it did nothing to her.

"Well, well. Look at what we found, boys," Bruce said, making it sound as if they'd uncovered the Ark of the Covenant. Minette stared up at him, less than impressed with the man. She couldn't understand how she'd once been attracted to him. "Hello, Minette. How's my girl?"

"I don't know. I haven't spoken with Jeanine in years. How is she? Or do you have a new girl now?" Minette was careful to keep any trace of emotion from her voice. There was no sarcasm, either. It was simply a question and the way she asked it suggested she didn't care what the answer was.

Bruce settled his hands on the table top and leaned forward so he could look her in the eye. She noted that he was still positioned over her and she realized that he didn't know yet about her change in status. She was tempted, for a moment, to flaunt it in his face, but decided that she'd let him live with his delusions of grandeur just a little while longer. "You're my girl, Minette. You always have been. You still are."

"I'm hardly your girl. I've got a new pard now. A new family. Go home before the leader of the pard finds out you're in his territory." She was careful to keep Micah's name out of the conversation, along with anything she might feel for the man. Bruce frowned at that and reached for Minette with one hand. That same hand froze with the unmistakable metallic sound of a hammer being cocked back. She glanced at Aedan to find that the woman had drawn her gun, but it was still hidden under the table.

"Hands off, Bruce."

"Well, if it isn't your pet dyke," Bruce drawled, tossing a knowing smirk at her before turning to look at the woman on the other side of the table. If Aedan took offense to his words, she didn't show it. Instead, she managed to look completely bored and menacing all at the same time. "Stay out of it, girl. This doesn't concern you. This is between family."

"Aedan's part of my family," Minette reminded him softly. He turned one of those sneers her way.

"She's your dyke protector, you mean," he replied as if he were clarifying a point. He'd been calling her a dyke since the first day they'd met, when Aedan had firmly refused his request that she join him in his bed. Minette had known what he'd really been suggesting and she'd been relieved when her friend had turned him down. Naturally, he hadn't wanted to take no for an answer, so Aedan had been forced to persuade him. The bruise hadn't lasted long, but the wound to his pride still hadn't healed.

"What she is or isn't to me is no longer your concern, Bruce. Now go. Please," Minette said quietly.

"Is there some law against having a nice conversation with an old friend?" Bruce asked.

"We really have nothing to say, Bruce. Now turn around and go."

"Yeah, Bruce. Turn around and go. Wasn't having your ass trounced once enough for you and your people?" Aedan sounded mildly amused and it brought Bruce's stare her way. The gun was still hidden and there was no amusement in her face. "If I remember correctly, didn't the Master of the City tell your man not to come back?"

"I don't take orders from a vampire," Bruce returned in a rather conversational tone. Then he swung his attention back to where Minette still sat. "Honestly, Minette. You should teach better manners to your pet. She's getting on my nerves."

She couldn't help but smile at that. "Actually, she is behaving herself. If not, she'd have shot you already. Its amazing just how much restraint she has when she's dealing with scumbags."

He stared at her for a few moments before giving her that smile she'd learned meant trouble. "Big words from such a little cat. Perhaps being away from me for so long has given you delusions. Maybe I should put you back in your place."

"Lay a hand on her, Bruce, and I'll shoot it off," Aedan commented lazily.

"Stay out of this, bitch," the man growled softly under his breath.

"Well, I see some things haven't changed. Still quick on the draw. How sad for you," Aedan chuckled softly. Minette felt a shimmer of power from him and, for a moment, felt herself falling back into old habits. The urge to cringe away was strong and she had to force herself not to give in to it. With what she thought had to be a supreme effort of will, Bruce pulled the power back and offered a less than pleasant smile to her.

"Your parents asked about you, Minette. I'm afraid they don't understand why you ran off like you did. I haven't had the heart to tell them that you don't want to marry me. They're still so sure its a good match." Bruce's voice was filled with malicious glee and his words started crumbling the wall she'd put up inside to protect her from him.

"Leave them out of this, Bruce. This is between you and I," she said between clenched teeth. He smirked and the urge to hit him rose up. She clenched her fists under the table and fought with herself for control. It was always like this when he started talking about her parents. She'd never been able to tell them that marriage to Bruce would be a mistake. She'd never been able to tell them what he'd done to her. They'd always thought that he was a good match for her. So good that her father had turned over the running of his construction business to Bruce in everything but name. Of course, that had been before she'd gone to college. It had probably changed since then.

That was how they'd met. Through her father's construction business. Bruce had come to work for her dad when she'd still been fairly young, no more than fifteen. Almost from the start, he'd started paying more attention to her than he should have. And, being young, Minette had reveled in it. She'd kept his attentions secret from her folks for a couple years. By the time she'd told them that she was seeing him, Minette had been head over heels in love with him. He'd always been polite and kind and gentle to her. Then had come the party, where he'd clawed her with hands turned to cat's paws. And it had been too late.

She'd had to live as the pard's kicking and punching bag. She'd been bottom of the group, the most submissive. And, looking back, she'd been able to see just how Bruce had played her, how he'd used her until he got what he'd wanted. By the time she was set to graduate from high school, her parents were under the impression that they were going to be married. Her father had turned over the day to day running of the business to him. She'd felt trapped, cornered, and had almost done something stupid in an attempt to get out of the situation.

College had been her saving grace. A few friends from school had thrown the idea to go to school for four more years at her. She'd thought that Bruce would oppose the idea, but he'd been oddly supportive. Minette had purposely picked a school that was outside of the city's limits. And she'd started planning her way out almost immediately.

If college had been her saving grace, Aedan had been her guardian angel. At first, Minette hadn't had a roommate to share her dorm room with. But something had transpired between Aedan and her original roommate and, before classes had even started, Aedan had moved into Minette's room. They'd meshed well together from the very beginning. Minette had always wondered about it and it had taken the other girl a long time to share her secrets. When Minette had finally told Aedan her own story, the necromancer had first declared that she would kill Bruce when the opportunity presented itself, then she'd gone on to help Minette solidify her plans for escaping.

"Too bad, sweetheart. I see them everyday." He paused to simply stare at her, then the hateful look she remembered all too well settled on his face and his next words were snarled at her almost violently. "Maybe I should tell them just what kind of whore you are. Tell them all about the things you used to do with me. What do you think they'd think of their little girl then? Hmmm?"

"You wouldn't... You can't," she whispered.

"Back off now, dickhead. Or I'll blow your fucking head off." There was no amusement in Aedan's voice this time. There was nothing. And Minette could see the dull gleam of her friend's gun shining against the backdrop of their table. Things were bad if she was flashing her weapon openly. Slowly, so very slowly, Bruce's head rotated until he could look at Aedan. It was only then that Minette dared to shoot her glance toward the other woman. The look on her friend's face would have been scary if it had been pointed at her.

"You'd only get to pull the trigger once before my men tore you apart, bitch." The threat hung heavy and ugly on the air. He'd do it. Here, in front of witnesses, he'd actually do it. Fear flooded her for a few seconds, only to be chased away by rage and a swell of power that she was sure everyone in the restaurant could feel.

"They'd hit the floor before they had a chance to move," a pleasant Southern drawl informed them. Relief swept through Minette as she turned to spy Bobby Lee standing just to the side of one of Bruce's underlings. Claudia was with him, standing beside the other man. While Minette didn't see any weapons, she didn't think they'd be necessary. The two rats would mop the floor with Bruce's people.

"What the hell is this shit? Are you two so weak that you have to have someone fight your battles for you?" Bruce snarled, his gaze snapping back to Minette. The sound of something slapping the tabletop drew everyone's attention and all eyes turned to see the gold badge gleaming against the wooden surface, surrounded by its leather case. She watched Bruce's eyes focus on it and widen slightly. He leaned back when the muzzle of Aedan's gun tapped him against the chest.

"Unless you want to find yourself locked in a jail cell, Bruce, I suggest you back off. One phone call from me will have the local authorities here in a heartbeat." Aedan considered him for a moment, then looked past him to where Bobby Lee stood. "Tell me you can use some target practice."

"There hasn't been anything to shoot lately. Things have been kind of quiet. Target practice is always good." There was a hint of mirth in the man's voice and a glance his way earned her a wink. He was bluffing, but Bruce and his goons didn't need to know that.

Several tense seconds ticked by as Bruce struggled to make a decision. Finally, he stood away from the table and turned his glare back on Minette. She fought the urge to cower and merely stared back at him silently. "This isn't over, Minette. Not at all. Watch your back, little cat."

"Stay away from me, Bruce," she told him quietly. "Stay out of St. Louis. If the weres don't get you, the vampires will."

"I'm not afraid of the vampires," he hissed at her. After casting a scowl at her companions, he jerked his head toward the door. The two cats with him followed him to the door while Bobby Lee and Claudia watched him go. She heard Aedan putting the gun and the badge away and heaved a sigh. Her words were whispered, but she thought he might hear them anyway.

"You should be, Bruce. You should be."

~*~*~*~*~

He sat in the solitude offered by his office and simply stared. At the array of pictures spread across the neat, tidy surface of his desk. They were pictures he barely allowed himself the pleasure of looking at. There were too few of them, with too many memories and emotions associated with them. He only took them out when he needed to remember his purpose. When he needed a reminder of just why he was doing this.

She was the main image in all of the photos, a goddess of beauty and light. Some of the pictures were full body shots, some only of her face. In each snapshot, blue eyes shone out at him with all the knowledge in the world brightening them. A radiant smile, as golden as the sun, formed perfect lips. Dark auburn hair cascaded in wanton disarray around her face, an oval of perfect porcelain skin. In some pictures, her belly was swollen with life while, in others, she held that life in her arms. She was beautiful. She was a goddess. His goddess.

She was dead.

His heart panged with the knowledge, as it always did when he acknowledged the fact. Even gods could fall and his goddess had fallen far, had slid into shadows and darkness. But she'd left behind a legacy, which he'd made his own. It was for her that he went on. For her that he fought this war. For her that everything had come to pass.

Gently, he ran his finger over the colorful image of her face. How he wished he could touch her once again, how he could smell the sweet, fresh scent of her skin and taste the bounty of her mouth just one more time. Bury himself in her hot body and slake his lust.

His cock throbbed with the thought and he steeled himself. God was testing him again. God always tested him, always challenged his faith. She'd been the first of many tests and he'd failed in a spectacular way. But God had forgiven him and shown him a way to reaffirm his belief in the Holy Word. He'd done what God had required him to do, had passed God's test and become a warrior of faith. But that faith never kept him from bringing forth her memory every so often and remember why he did what he did.

She smiled up at him out of the photographs, a beautiful goddess of temptation. There was a familiarity to her face that he knew he'd seen someone else wear. For the moment, he couldn't seem to recall just who that person was, but he knew he'd met them once or twice. And it hadn't been all that long ago. He didn't think it was a woman, but he couldn't be sure that it had been a man, either. Not that it mattered. She was gone and was, in the grand scheme of things, not that important. Her place was in his memory, a stolen moment of joy not meant for anyone else. Carefully, with a great deal of reverence, he laid her pictures aside and turned his attention to a few others that he'd brought out with her photos.

The child was the subject of these snapshots. A child with solemn, sad eyes clad in a tattered cloak of loss. The child always looked like this, no matter the picture. He'd never seen a smile on that face, never seen any joy reflected in those eyes.

It was part of his duty now to bring the child back to the light, to pull away the shadows that shrouded one of God's fold. He'd been trying to accomplish that task for some time now, but to no avail. The child was lost to God's light and God's path. It was his duty to rescue such lost souls. And he'd failed the child at every turn. Nothing he'd done had set the child's feet back on the path to righteousness.

He'd failed God and his goddess and the child.

There was barely a knock upon his door before it opened and Peter stepped into his office. Peter, young and brash and ambitious. The boy saw the pictures spread across his desk and a frown twisted his lips down. "Father, why do you keep looking at pictures of that whore?" The question was asked in a voice laced with no small amount of malice and jealousy. Disgust had crept over his face as his soft blue eyes glared down at the photos.

"She is not a whore, Peter. She is the reason we do what we do. God wants me to save her and everyone like her. Its the path He's set my feet on. He's set your feet on that path, too."

"She's a whore," the boy insisted, hatred shining in his eyes. The man sighed and shook his head, knowing that the boy was jealous on behalf of his mother.

"It is not your place to judge, boy," he replied, his tone even. The volume of his voice never increased, never changed. But Peter heard the rebuke in it, nonetheless. He cringed back and averted his gaze. "God has judged her soul. Just as He will judge yours and mine."

"She gave herself to the demons. How can God forgive that?" The boy was sullen, his words mulish.

"Because I delivered her to God's light. She showed me how I could better serve him. I do His will, as we all do. If you don't believe in His plan..."

"You know I believe in God's plan, Father," Peter hastened to assure him. There was no real piety in his words, no humbleness in his voice. He sighed and shook his head at the boy. Peter was only repeating what he thought was appropriate. What he felt he should say. Where had he failed with the boy?

"No you don't, Peter. Not as you should. I had thought you ready to help me carry on my work. Of all your brothers, I thought you were the one who would understand. I was wrong."

"No, Father. You weren't wrong. I believe in what you do. I want to help you continue your work and spread God's word." Peter's voice had turned soft and childish, filled with youthful pleading. He was whining.

"I don't know if I can believe you, Peter. Leave me and allow me to think on this. Seclude yourself and pray for guidance from God."

"Father, please. I swear to you..."

"Go, Peter. Now!" he ordered. The boy stared at him a moment before the scowl returned. Then he nodded his head and turned to stalk from the room. When Peter was gone, he turned back to his pictures and stared down at his goddess. Stared down upon the child. He was losing the boy to the darkness, just as he'd lost the others. What had he done to drive them into the arms of the Devil?

"Tell me, Father," he turned pleading eyes to the ceiling and the heavens beyond. "Why have I failed you? Where did I go wrong?"