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marysuevirus2010-04-10 11:33 pm
The Mary Sue Virus: Beyond Death
Chapter Thirty Three: A Date With Destiny
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.
Author's Notes: this chapter is not betaed. since i'm so word heavy and Gin has so much going on, i decided to post it with only a spell check. not to mention, i've been battling with this chapter for, quite literally, months and i didn't want to make anyone wait any longer than necessary. so here it is. raw. enjoy.
The Mary Sue Virus: Beyond Death - Index Link
Minette stared at her reflection in the mirror and frowned. Maybe this wasn't a good idea. She was starting to think that she was in way over her head. She'd never been considered popular when she was younger, so she'd never really been out with too many men. Thinking back on it, she was fairly certain that was why she'd fallen prey to Bruce and his charms. Maybe that was how she'd ended up where she was.
Hearing the door behind her, she pushed the memories aside and returned her attention to the process of getting ready for her date. Jason padded over to the vanity with a small bag in his hand. She eyed it suspiciously. He only grinned and set the bag down on the wooden surface before her. "Stop looking at it like that. Its make up. It won't bite you."
"I don't wear much make up," she told him. Jason smiled as he began pulling different shaped and sized plastic squares and circles from the bag. Next came pencils and tubes. She frowned at all of the different supplies. How could anyone need so much make up?
"This is an important date," he countered, sorting through the different containers. There was a hint of wickedness to his tone that she wasn't sure she should appreciate.
"It isn't really a date, Jason. Requiem and I are just going to go to the theater and then maybe have some dinner at a nice restaurant. Its..."
"A date," Jason proclaimed with a knowing grin. Minette sighed and shook her head. She didn't feel up to debating what she and Requiem were going to be doing tonight. She'd been mildly shocked when he'd come to her the night before and asked if she'd like to attend a production of The Phantom of the Opera with him tonight. She'd been tempted to say no, but then she'd seen the fear lingering in his eyes. He'd expected her to turn him down and she hadn't been able to stand the idea of hurting his feelings. So she'd said yes. And now, she was starting to wonder just what the hell she'd been thinking.
"This probably isn't smart," she shook her head. "I mean, what about you and Micah? Why should you want to share me?"
"Haven't you figured out by now that I'm more a friends with benefits kind of guy than boyfriend material? And I can't speak for Micah but I suspect he'd have let you know if he was upset by this." Jason sighed and finally picked up a bottle of foundation. "Minette, the only one who seems to be upset by this is you. Requiem genuinely likes you. He liked Anita and she kind of ignored him. It bothered him more than he was willing to let on. Don't let us be the reason you push him away."
She sighed and allowed him to start layering on the foundation. There was a hint of concern in his voice that she couldn't miss. Deep in the recesses of her brain, Gin poked out long enough to remind her just how Anita had treated Requiem. It hadn't been pretty. Minette knew that chances were good he'd never recover from it if she decided to set him aside in favor of Jason and Micah. "I want to be fair to you all of you, Jason."
The blonde smiled as he set the foundation aside and picked up some pressed powder. "We know that, Minette. And as long as you're honest with all of us, as long as you treat us with respect, you'll be fair." He scooped up a brush and twirled it through the powder in much the same manner she'd seen done on those police shows on television. Once the ends of the bristles were coated, he began dusting it across her cheeks.
She remained silent as he applied the cosmetics to her face. The blush was a pale shade of pink that put just a hint of color on her cheeks. The shadow for her eyelids was in shades of light grey and purple, which brought out the color of her eyes. Her lips were painted with a soft, shiny mauve gloss. Each color was enhanced the simplicity of her black dress.
Jason had helped her pick that out, too. It was made from layers of chiffon and floated around her legs when she walked as if it were a cloud. The neck was high, yoking the front of her throat before flowing up over her shoulders to cross her back between the shoulder blades and then reconnect with the dress about mid-back. The bust was similar to a halter, the two wide straps curling around the jeweled neckline so that there was a narrow cut away section that exposed an expanse of skin from just under her throat to just above her breasts. A jeweled belt cinched the waist ever so slightly to give the dress shape. A silk wrap lay across the bed, meant to cover her shoulders and back. A pair of jeweled sandals with low heels completed the look and made Minette look more sophisticated than she'd ever felt.
"You're beautiful," Jason told her as they both stared at her reflection in the mirror. His words were spoken with just a touch of masculine heat to them and they brought a flush to her cheeks that darkened the blush he'd put there. "You're going to knock Requiem for a loop."
"Hardly." Minette shook her head.
Jason merely looked at her for a heartbeat or two. Then that grin, wicked and wolfish, spread across his face. "I'm sure you'll be out until nearly dawn. So I've packed a few extras in your purse. Your gloss is in there, as is some cash, your cell phone and a few condoms. In case he forgets in the heat of the moment."
"Oh, God. Jason!" Minette felt her face flame, embarrassment creeping through her quickly.
"What? You look good enough to eat. And Requiem is a man of taste and sophistication. You know tonight will end up with you on the bottom." Her cheeks flamed brighter, earning her a wicked smile from the man behind her. He opened his mouth to say more, but a brisk knock at the door stalled any further ribbing on his part. Instead, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to her cheek, then turned and crossed the room for the door. Minette took the opportunity to try and bring herself back under control.
The door opened to reveal her date and she found herself staring at his reflection in the mirror.
Requiem was dressed in his best formal attire. His suit was midnight dark linen, the lapels of his suit made of a shiny satin. A black bow tie nestled between the points of his collar, matched to the same satin on his lapels. The shirt he wore was snowy white. He'd put on a vest that was blue silk, swirling designs embroidered into it with black thread. He'd pulled his long hair back and secured it against his neck with a black velvet ribbon. A black opera cape rested over his shoulders. All he needed to complete the look was a top hat, a pair of white gloves and a walking stick.
She turned to face him, barely noticing that Jason slipped out the door without a word. Requiem's gaze swept over her, starting with her face and working its way down to her feet before climbing back up. He offered her a smile that was soft and genuine before striding deeper into the room. She left the vanity and met him in the center of the large chamber. He took her hand in his and raised it to his lips, bending slightly so that he didn't have to lift it into an uncomfortable position. The brush of his lips against her skin was almost electric and, combined with his blue eyes watching her closely, sent a slight shiver rolling up her spine. When he straightened, one of his hands lifted to ghost over the curls that Jason had worked into her hair.
"You look beautiful, Minette. Like a freshly blossomed rose under the brilliance of the sun's rays. I am truly lucky to be blessed with such a goddess on my arm this night." She wanted to refute what he was saying to her, but his words sounded so sincere. His face looked so earnest. She couldn't bring herself to do it, couldn't crush him like that.
"I'm the lucky one. I'll be on the arm of the most handsome man there," she replied, a slight finger of uncertainty worming its way through her mind. She wasn't as capable with pretty words as he was and was afraid that her words sounded silly and simple next to his more poetic ones. But he only smiled.
"You flatter me, sweet Minette." He leaned in and pressed a kiss to her cheek, his lips smooth and cool. Then he moved toward the bed and retrieved her wrap. Gentle hands draped it around her shoulders before he offered her his arm. "Shall we, my lady? The night is young and our chariot awaits."
Despite the nervous flutter of butterflies in her stomach, she gave him a smile, then gave him her arm and allowed him to escort her out the door.
~*~
The chariot turned out to be a stretch limo that had whisked them off to the theater where they'd be catching the nine o'clock showing of The Phantom of the Opera. Minette had never been to the theater and had felt self-conscious as she and Requiem had followed an usher to the box and their seats.
Seats that had been in the best spot. She'd been able to see the entire theater from where they'd sat and her view of the stage had been most impressive. There'd been little talk between Requiem and herself before the performance had started. She'd been so caught up in looking at the swelling crowd that conversation had been almost impossible. The man at her side hadn't seemed to mind that so much. In fact, it had seemed to her that he took joy in her slowly building excitement.
From the moment the play had started, her attention had been captivated by the actors upon the stage. The costumes had been lavish, the sets intricate and amazing. And the singing had been amazing. The lead female's soprano had been flawless and clear while the tenor of the two male leads formed an amazing counterpoint, the voices meshing beautifully with one another. Requiem had asked her nothing during the intermission, simply smiled at her enthusiasm as he'd escorted her to the ladies' room and the bar, then back to their box for the second half.
After the show had finished, they'd climbed back into the limo amidst a group of paparazzi that snapped a multitude of pictures and asked loud, rude questions. Requiem had remained stoic and unmoved, one arm around Minette's shoulders protectively. He'd gone so far as to turn her face into his chest to prevent the cameras from capturing her image. Then the car had hurried them off into the night, only to stop at a very exclusive restaurant.
Minette had been leery of ordering anything but Requiem had encouraged her to choose whatever it was that appealed to her. She'd finally settled on steak and lobster tail served with a salad and a baked potato. Requiem had ordered a bottle of red wine to go with her dinner. She'd never had wine before and had sipped at it carefully with her first taste. Deeming it something she could stomach, she'd taken another smaller drink and cast a glance around the interior of the restaurant.
If anyone thought it odd that he wasn't eating or drinking, no one said anything. No one even seemed to pay attention to him despite the fact that he had to be one of the best looking men in the entire place. With the realization that they were little more than another pair of diners, she allowed herself to relax and found that she was enjoying herself more than she'd thought she would.
Her salad arrived first and she found that it was more than just a salad. She couldn't name some of the ingredients in it, but that didn't matter. It tasted divine. So divine that she had to force herself to eat like a normal person and not shovel it into her mouth or bury her face in the bowl. Requiem seemed amused by her care, but he watched her chew and swallow as if he was afraid she would get up and bolt on him if he looked away.
He was polite and waited until she finished her salad before opening up conversation. "Did you enjoy the theater?"
Minette looked up at him with large green eyes. "Oh, yes. I've never been to the theater before. It was amazing. I really loved it. Thank you for taking me."
"Thank you for attending with me. I am pleased that you found it to your liking."
There was something more to his words than a simple thank you. She remembered again just how Anita had treated him and realized that he'd been afraid that things would still fall apart, that she'd have found a way to reject him. Perhaps he'd been as nervous about this date as she had been. The very idea was almost too difficult to grasp. But it made sense to her. Offering him a broad, genuine smile, she made a motion with one hand that was meant to encompass the entire evening. "Everything has been fantastic. I've really enjoyed it all. Thank you."
"It is a pleasing thing when one can please a lady," he quipped, his eyes alive with some emotion she couldn't put a name to. "My only desire for this outing has been to make you smile. Seeing such a joyous look blossom upon your face is akin to watching the sun rise and basking in the warm beauty of its spreading rays."
Minette blushed with the compliment, her cheeks heating. She saw his nostrils flare and realized that he was scenting the blood that rushed through her veins. She couldn't stop herself from wondering if he saw her as a food source or if he was thinking of sex. Her body twinged with a small flare of desire as an image of the two of them wrapped around one another flashed through her mind. She was suddenly very glad that Jason had included condoms. And very nervous.
Her gaze flicked around the restaurant while she tried to calm her wildly pounding heart. It felt intimate sitting there with him even though they were surrounded by people. The dim lighting combined with the distance set between tables to make it feel as if they were alone. Some perverse part of her wondered if the table could withstand the force of their love making. Was the arduer making an appearance or did she simply want him that much?
She pondered it, watching him as he watched her. He seemed content to merely look at her, seemed content to simply have her with him. That puzzled her and, before she could seem to stop herself, she gave voice to the question it brought. "Why me?"
Her question startled him. "I beg your pardon? What do you mean, why you?"
"Why did you pick me? Why didn't you pick one of the others? Why not Aedan? Why me?" She knew the question was prompted by her own insecurities but she couldn't help herself. Bruce had left her wondering about so many things. Including whether or not men found her to be desirable. Ever since leaving Bruce's pard, she'd been trying hard not to let herself dwell on such thoughts. She'd attributed the connection to Micah to that part of Anita that she carried inside of herself. It was pretty much the same with Jason. But Anita hadn't really had a connection to Requiem.
So why had her chosen her?
He smiled at her, gave her a look that was soft and tender. She suspected that he'd have reached across the table to take her hand if it had been any smaller. "Why should I have not picked you? You are a vibrant and beautiful woman, passionate about your friends and life. There is strength in you that is belied by your stature. Any man would be pleased to have such a woman by his side."
"But..." She tried to find something to say. She still didn't quite understand. "I was already taken. Why not someone like Aedan, who doesn't have a... partner?"
"Aedan is a beautiful woman. However, she does not appeal to me in the same manner that you do. She is..." he paused and searched for the right words, one hand held in the air as if he'd forgotten he was speaking with it. Finally, he pinned her with a look that went straight to her heart and started it pounding again. "Aedan is a lovely woman. But there is a hardness to her that you do not possess. She sees me as a man. Not a lover. However, that is a moot point because Aedan has already given her heart to another."
Minette blinked at that. Really? When had Aedan done that? And how had Minette missed it? Then she realized just who that someone was and she shook her head. "No. Surely not. You must be mistaken. She doesn't like him."
Requiem gave her a smile that suggested she was being naive. "If you would but watch her with him, you would see the truth of my words. She loves him though she does not admit it. Not even to herself."
Minette frowned, her brow furrowing. Was it true? Had Aedan fallen in love with Jean Claude? Had Minette missed it?
"You seem to find this hard to believe. Do you think I would lie to you about matters of the heart? I assure you, Aedan loves Jean Claude. And she will come to accept it in her own time." He paused as her meal arrived, watching her as she checked it over to ensure it was cooked properly. After nodding to their server that it was acceptable, they were once more alone. "I believe we have discussed your friend enough. Now, let us talk about you."
"Me?" She blinked, a bite of her steak hanging in mid-air as her hand stopped its path to her mouth. A momentary sense of panic took her. "Why would you want to talk about me?"
"Perhaps because you interest me?" he suggested lightly. She stared at that, unsure how to answer that. Or if she even needed to. Finally, she grinned sheepishly and nodded her head.
"Very well. What would you like to know?"
"Why do you not begin with your childhood?" He lifted a brow at her, prompting another nod. Her childhood. Seemed like the place to start. She dug around inside her head for a moment or two, then offered him a smile and launched into the tale of her earliest memory.
~*~*~*~*~
Isis glanced around at all the faces that had gathered at the Lunatic Cafe upon her request. Okay, there weren't so many that they needed the entire cafe, but they'd been given a quiet corner in the back of the building, away from the other patrons, where she could talk to them about the changes facing the pride. Damian was waiting outside until she sent him an signal to let him know that everything was well.
There were so few of them.
"Why did you call us here?" Noel asked, his hands toying nervously with the napkin before him. Isis noted that he was almost absently shredding it. A chorus of voices lifted around him, copying his words. They all wanted to know what was going on. She held up her hands in an effort to quiet them down.
"I know you're all confused. If you'll give me a little bit of time, I'll explain everything to you. I just need you to be quiet and patient with me."
"Where's Haven? Why isn't he here? He's our Rex. He should be here." This came from Travis. Again, there was an echo of his question from everyone else present. Isis sighed and figured it was now or never. She pulled her cell from her pocket and dialed in a number. The other end was picked up, but there was nothing said. Pre-arranged since she hadn't wanted to give anything away until it was time.
"Go ahead and come in. We might as well get this over with." The other end disconnected without a word. Isis folded up the phone and tucked it back into the pocket of her jeans. All eyes were watching her warily. "Haven's gone back to Chicago."
Noel frowned at that while everyone else looked puzzled. "So its true? The rumors I've heard. They say that he went back to Chicago because we've got a new Rex. Is that true? Is there really a new Rex?"
Isis sucked in a breath. "Yes. There's a new Rex." She waited for the general uproar to die down. People were asking what was going on, why they hadn't yet been told and who the new Rex was. They even wanted to know why Isis was telling them and not the Rex. She listened to it all with a sympathetic ear. Hadn't her world been turned on its ear recently, too? When they finally quieted, she took a breath and began her tale. She had to choose her words carefully. "You're all aware that Anita Blake was killed recently, right?"
The group nodded their heads in unison.
"When this happened, she somehow used magic to... I don't know, transfer her powers off to other people. I was one of them. I still don't understand it because I didn't know the woman. But what I do know is that she gave me the role of Regina over the pride."
A cacophony of noise broke out at the announcement. She let them voice their opinions and displeasure, knowing that it was better to let them get it out now than to let it fester and grow into something ugly. Something that would explode in their faces later. Even as they argued and snarled, she could feel Damian moving closer and closer to them.
His power arrived before he did, bringing the group to silence. As one, they turned to stare toward the front of the cafe. She thought she saw a few eyes that had gone catlike. She thought someone might have snarled. Damian seemed oblivious to it. He only stared at them, coming to a stop behind her. Unconsciously, she leaned into him and let the touch of his power spread through her.
"What is this? He's a vampire! He can't be Rex!" She wasn't sure who'd said it. She didn't care. She'd known that this wouldn't be easy.
"I promise you that he is our Rex. Damian fought Haven and beat him," she explained patiently. She turned and looked up into his face. There was no expression to be seen there and it left her wondering if this had been such a good idea. "Show them. Show them your power."
He didn't move, not even to bat an eye. But it was as if he opened a flood gate and, suddenly, they were swimming in the power that was a mix of vampire and werelion. It moved slowly around the gathering, touching each one of the people there with ghostly fingers before Damian pulled it back into himself. Again, he didn't move. But it was just gone. She watched as the pride shivered with the loss of that power.
"How the hell is this possible?" someone asked.
"I don't know. I think its something Anita did. But I can't be certain. That isn't what matters, though. What does is that my lioness has accepted him. She's claimed him as mate. That makes him Rex. And that means..." she trailed off, looking from one astonished face to another. "Hell, I don't know what it means. Not really. But we wanted you to know that we're going to do everything in our power to protect the pride, to protect each and every one of you. And if you have problems, we want you to come to us."
"How can a vampire protect us in the daylight hours? He'll be dead to the world," Travis questioned. His words were met with a chorus of similar sentiments.
"The human servant of the Master of the City has agreed to be your daytime protection," Damian finally told them. Everyone turned to look at him.
"Anita Blake is dead. She can't protect us anymore."
"Jean Claude has taken a new human servant already. And she has pledged before Isis, before her master and before myself that she will protect you. Aedan is as honorable as Anita was. If she says she will do this thing, she will do it. You can put your trust in her," Damian replied. "It also means that you will have the protection of the Master of the City."
A whisper rose up as the gathered lions turned and whispered to one another. This was something they hadn't known was possible. The vampires tended to leave the lycanthropes alone, preferring to keep to themselves. However, with Aedan and Damian involved in the pride, it was practically guaranteed that Jean Claude would involve himself in the pride, as well. It would end up being beneficial for both parties.
"What does all this mean for us?"
"It means that we're going to try and become a healthy pride. It means that Damian and I want to be fair leaders. It means that no one is going to pick on the pride any longer. Not without answering to someone bigger and badder than them. Nothing is really going to change, except for the way everyone is treated."
Damian nodded and stepped closer, laying his hand on her arm. So close to the pride, she felt his power play along her skin like a lover. She couldn't be sure if it was because he was showing off or because he was reacting to the pride. Not that it mattered because they were responding to his power play, too. She could see it in the way their eyes flashed in their faces, one instant appearing human and the next shining like a cat's. A few flashed fangs when their mouths opened on a silent roar. Whatever it was, it was doing exactly what it needed to do. It proved to the people gathered there that night that Damian was their Rex and he could protect them.
Slowly, the rest of the pride rose form their seats to circle Damian and Isis warily. She watched as they scented the air around them, noses flaring as they caught the smells that rode the conditioned air. One at a time, they began rubbing a cheek against Damian somewhere. His arm, his shoulder, someplace that was easily reached without bowing down or crawling on the floor, though it wouldn't have been odd if they'd done so. It was simply a way to acknowledge him as their leader and show their respect.
Once finished, they returned to their seats and stared up at Isis and Damian. She could still see a few doubts here and there, but most of the biggest worries had been stripped away from their shoulders. Not that it was going to be easy to do what she'd said she wanted to do. She was sure that someone would fight from time to time. And there would be conflicts. Some of the men were probably wondering if Damian would start slaughtering them without warning. It would take time for them to completely trust the new way of things.
But she had to try. The way Joseph, and then Haven, had been running the pride had nearly ruined it. The lions were, on a whole, weak. They were small, like the leopards, and not nearly so well led. Isis had seen this first hand with both men who'd had leadership over them. Everyone knew that the wolves were the strongest group, the most prolific. They were also better organized than the other lycanthropes were. She wanted to change that.
She had such high hopes for the pride, so many plans. She and Damian had discussed the things she hoped to accomplish at great length. She'd been surprised that he'd agreed with her and had promised that he would help her achieve her goals. She'd also been pleased. Just as she was pleased now that he was here, standing amidst the pride, and he'd been pretty much accepted. That much was evident when the pride rearranged themselves around the table, making room for Isis and Damian to sit.
As if that had been a signal to the waitress, she wandered over and asked if anyone wanted anything to eat or drink. After orders were put in and the woman left them alone, questions started flying. She answered those that were directed at her. She let Damian answer those that directly involved him. Food came and went, glasses filled and emptied while they talked. She and Damian were honest with the pride and, when the group finally began to disperse some several hours later, Isis had high hopes that things would work out.
"They seemed receptive," Damian commented as they watched the last straggler to walk out the door. Travis had asked more questions than the rest. It seemed as if he would take extra convincing. But he'd given the impression of being open to the new regime.
"They did. It was more than I'd hoped for," Isis agreed. She scooted closer to Damian and pressed against him. Almost without thought, his arm circled her shoulders and tugged her closer. Sighing, she reached out and snagged an onion ring from a plate. "They seemed to take your being their Rex fairly well. It went better than I'd expected."
"It will take them time to accept it fully. Change is difficult to handle. Something this big..." he broke off and shrugged a shoulder. "Rome was not built in one day."
"I know. I know its going to take them time. I can deal with that." She smiled at him, then yawned. "Oh. Excuse me. I guess this night was more nerve wracking then I'd thought it would be. I think I need to go home and crawl in bed."
"Very well. I shall take you home," Damian nodded and stood. She watched as he reached into a pocket and pulled out a wad of cash. After counting off a couple of bills, he tossed them down on the table top and then returned the money to his pocket. When he was done, he held one hand out to her. She put her hand in his, allowing him to pull her to her feet.
"Will you put me to bed, too?" she asked him, giving him a knowing look.
"If that is what you wish," he replied. It was her turn to nod. That earned her a smile and he stopped long enough to press a kiss to her lips, a light thing that promised what was to come once they reached the safety of her home. Ignoring the remaining patrons and the staff, he wrapped an arm around her and tugged her out of the cafe. They made their way slowly across the parking lot to her car, simply enjoying the night air and each other's company.
Until Damian stopped suddenly and gently pushed her body behind his. She put a hand on his shoulder and felt the tension there. His entire body was strung as tight as a bow string. If it was plucked the right way, it would snap and lash out at anyone who was foolish enough to be in its way. Common sense urged her to silence and she tried to strain her eyes and see what it was he saw.
"Come, my sweet," he whispered and started them on their way to the car again. His free hand flexed, reaching for the hilt of a sword that he'd left behind. He said nothing more, nor did he relax, until they were safely inside the car and on the road. Only then did the tension slide from him though he never stopped watching the cars that drove past them.
"Damian? What was it?"
"I thought I sensed something..." he paused and frowned. She wondered if he would say anything more when the silence began to stretch between them. Finally, he sighed and shook his head. "Perhaps I am on edge after what happened with Asher. But I thought that I sensed evil and madness nearby."
"You can sense that?"
He said nothing, simply nodded his head. Isis reached out and hit the automatic lock button, then flipped open the console between the seats. The gun was heavy in her hands, but she pulled it free and laid it in Damian's lap. Let him shoot anyone who tried to attack them.
She had to concentrate on the road.
~*~*~*~*~
Damn it! They'd almost been seen. How had the vampire almost caught them? They were well hidden between the shining hulks of cars. How had he known they were there?
He watched the car drive off, a manic smile slowly spreading across his face. Beside him, his sweet little whore was busy writing on the pad of paper he'd thrust into her hands. The pen moved fluidly across the page, taking down all the vital information he needed to move on to the next part of their plan.
Their next victim had been inside the cafe, laughing and talking as if there was nothing wrong. As if she wasn't a sinner of the worst kind. He'd watched her flirt with the men around her, watched her play the whore. She needed to repent her sins, needed to give up her slutty ways. He was going to help her do that. He and his sweet little whore. They would help the woman confess all the evil she'd done, then they'd purify her soul so that she could go to Heaven.
It was God's plan. It was what he wanted them to do. Purify. Cleanse. Confess.
A soft sigh caught his attention and he turned to find that his sister had dropped the pad of paper to the pavement. She'd pulled her skirt up to expose her lack of modesty. She hadn't worn panties and was busy rubbing at her cunt with the pen. Her gaze rose to meet his and he saw in it her knowing. Her satisfaction. Her plan.
I see hell in your eyes.
He'd told her before that she wasn't allowed to touch herself without his permission. He'd told her more than once. But she never listened. She always disobeyed. Perhaps because she knew it would drive him to punish her. Perhaps because she had no care for her soul. Perhaps because she was truly a slut, a whore of Babylon, and she couldn't stop herself from seeking pleasure in the sinfulness of sex.
His hand reached out and grabbed her wrist, pulled so sharply that he smelled the freshly spilt blood from the gash the pen had ripped into the flesh of her hungry cunt. She didn't cry out. Instead, she sighed. Her free hand reached for him, grabbed at his zipper. She had no shame. No morals. No sense of what was good and what was evil.
She didn't care that she was tainted, a whore of such epic proportions that it would take the rest of her life to repent for all of her sins.
Her hand opened his fly, reached in and found his cock. One hand brought it to aching life, the blood roaring in his ears before rushing to his groin to fill his erection. His grip on her wrist weakened, allowing her to pull it free from his hand. This time, she grabbed his wrist. She brought it to her crotch, rubbed his fingers against her cunt.
Touching you makes me feel alive.
The heat of her body was all it took. He didn't care that they'd be seen. All he knew was that he wanted. There. In the parking lot. He wanted to drive his dick deep inside of her and fuck her until she cried and bled and begged him for more.
She let him drive her to the ground and, like the good whore she was, opened her thighs to him. He covered her with his body, shoved his cock deep inside of her and started thrusting hard. She wrapped her legs around him, held on for dear life. Panted like a bitch in heat. Whispered words of praise in his ear. Urged him on.
She was his. His whore. His sister. His salvation. His damnation.
Touching you makes me die inside.
~*~*~*~*~
The family was watching her curiously, as if they knew that something was wrong. They were damn right something was wrong. She was tired. So fucking tired. Sleep came in fits and was filled with dreams of blood and death and gore. With babies missing their organs, heads without eyes and tongues. And gallons of crimson liquid. It was enough to turn her off of just about everything. She wanted to curl up in a corner and hide, pull the blankets over her head so that no one could see her. Maybe then she'd start feeling normal again. Maybe then she could go back to the way things were before. Maybe...
Ignoring the group of people standing outside the circle of blood, Aedan turned back to the zombie before her. Mrs. Marion Harper was awaiting further instructions, eyes shining with an intelligence that shouldn't have been seen in a corpse. Aedan had been contracted to raise the woman from her grave to deal with unresolved matters within the company she'd run for fifty years. Apparently, her partners hadn't liked her will, which had been contested from the beginning. That was six months ago. Despite earlier problems, the zombie looked very much alive.
This was the fourth zombie of the night and it shouldn't have tired her out this much. Neither should have the first, second or third. But there'd been problems almost from the beginning. Nothing that the woman's family, partners and their lawyers would have noticed. But Aedan had noticed. Not enough power used here. Too much used there. Her control tonight was for shit and she'd known it the moment she'd stepped into the first cemetery. Some part of her knew it was her own fault, that she'd let her sleeping patterns become too disrupted. That she didn't eat the way she was supposed to. She'd been running on fumes for days and it was catching up to her. It was all going to come crashing down on her head. When it did, there was going to be hell to pay.
"Miss Kinkade?" one of the lawyers addressed her. Aedan turned to acknowledge him but didn't bother to speak. "We're done here. Mrs. Harper has answered all of our questions. I don't think we'll be needing her help anymore. Thank you for your assistance. We'll be sure to contact your employer and let him know that we're very pleased with your work."
"Thank you. I'm sure he'll be glad to hear it." She offered them a smile that she knew was strained at the edges. If any of them noticed, they said nothing. Instead, the small gathering began to drift away from the grave, talking to themselves. Mrs. Harper's grown children lingered a moment or two longer, shooting glances toward their mother. The zombie lifted a hand and waved at them.
"Go on, dears. There's no need to stay," she told them, her voice rich and full. There was a hint of a quaver in it, but it was soft and barely noticeable. They nodded, said nothing as they turned and followed after the partners and lawyers. She called after them, her voice breaking with emotion a she watched them leave. "I love you!"
The corpse waited until her children had climbed back into their cars before she turned back to Aedan. "Its time to put me back, dear. I'm ready to go. Are you sure you're up to it? You look positively exhausted."
"I'll be fine, Mrs. Harper. This is my last job tonight. I plan on going home and sleeping after this," Aedan told the woman with a smile. Marion Harper had been a mother hen in life. Death hadn't changed that. Not in the slightest.
The corpse studied her for a few moments more, eyes shrewd and knowing. It was almost as if she didn't believe Aedan. Finally, though, she nodded and made a motion that suggested Aedan get on with it.
Smiling to herself, Aedan reached into the backpack that served as her zombie kit and took the container of salt out of its zippered slot. She poured some into her hand, then carefully threw it the zombie. "With salt I bind you to your grave." Next came the bloodied blade she'd used to behead the chicken. "With blood and steel I bind you to your grave."
Mrs. Harper didn't move when Aedan dragged the blood coated weapon against her lips. "Return to your grave and rest, Marion Harper. Be at peace and walk no more." The corpse laid back down on the grass, then simply disappeared from view. Aedan heaved a sigh of relief and dropped to her knees wearily. A minute or two to rest, then she'd clean up her mess.
In a minute or two...
The loud, harsh song that was her ring tone jerked her out of a light doze. She was groggy and slow. The phone had stopped ringing by the time she fished it out of its place in her backpack. Flipping it open, the call back number made her frown. It was Dolph's number. She didn't want to call him back. She didn't want to go see anymore dead bodies. She didn't think she could handle any more.
Her ring tone went off again, loud in the stillness of the cemetery. It was somehow obscene and she hurried to answer it. "Kinkade."
"Its Detective Storr, Miss Kinkade. I need your help."
"Is it the demon again?" She hoped he couldn't hear the hesitation in her voice.
"No. It looks like another lycanthrope. I want your confirmation." She opened her mouth to answer him and couldn't quite hold back a yawn. There was a moment of silence from the other end." Did I wake you?"
"No. I'm sorry. Its been very hectic the past few days. I'm just about dead on my feet. Where is this body?"
He didn't answer her right away. Instead, she heard him speaking to someone else, his voice faint. When he came back, there was concern in his voice. "You sound like you're asleep. Where are you? I'm going to send a car to pick you up. The last thing I need tonight is a phone call telling me you were in an accident on your way to my crime scene."
She wanted to argue with him but, the truth was, she was just as afraid of such a thing. Biting back a sigh, she began putting things back into her backpack. "I'm at Hillcrest Cemetery, Dolph."
There was some more of that muttered speech, then he came back. "I've got a car on the way. Stay there, Aedan."
"Don't worry. I don't plan on moving."
~*~
Aedan was almost asleep against her car when the crunching of tires over gravel reached her ears. It took a moment or two to pry her eyes open. An unmarked rolled to a stop near her and Zerbrowski climbed from the front seat. He took one look at her and frowned. "You look like shit, Kinkade."
The urge to flip him off came and went. Instead, she leaned down and picked up her kit. There was no way she was leaving it in her car when there was no telling when someone would get around to picking it up. He was halfway to her side by the time she righted herself, concern etched on his face. She shot him a smile. "I'm alright, Zerbrowski. I just need some sleep. I'm still not quite used to the schedule I've been on lately."
"Take a couple of sleeping pills and shut the phone off," he suggested. She said nothing, simply carried her kit to his car and stowed it in the backseat. Then she climbed into the front on the passenger's side and put her seatbelt on. He joined her and turned the car over, locking his own seatbelt into place as he put the vehicle into gear. Aedan figured it would take him thirty seconds before he started asking questions. He made it a full minute. "Are you sure you're okay for this? I don't think Dolph would..."
"He'd never let me live it down if I wimped out on him. Besides, its my job. I'll be okay." He shot a glance at her that suggested he didn't believe her. But he said nothing. Instead, the car remained silent with exception of the occasional crackle of noise across the police band radio and the hum of the tires on the road. Aedan fought against the clinging tendrils of slumber, tried to bring her mind around to the task at hand. It was more interested in sleep than work. But there was no way in hell she was going to fall asleep in front of Zerbrowski. He'd never let her live it down.
And she had to show Dolph that she could do the job just as good as Anita. Better.
She managed to hang on until they arrived at what appeared to be an abandoned house. The windows were boarded up, the lawn brown and dead in the head lamps and strobing lights of the squad cars. Paint that had once been bright, sunny yellow now peeled away from the outer walls in long, jagged strips. Sparkling blades of shattered glass littered the ground, as did scraps of paper, forgotten styrofoam cups and hundreds of other small pieces of trash. There were a few crumpled fast food bags caught on the ghostly limbs of long, leafless shrubs. It was obvious that no one had lived here in a very long time.
Zerbrowski watched as she clipped her ID badge to her shirt collar, then motioned for one of the milling uniforms to pan his flashlight across the driveway. It wasn't until then that Aedan noticed that all the cars were parked on the street. There was a heart, pierced by a cross, painted on the black top. She snapped gloves onto her hands with a practiced ease that spoke to having put them on one too many times. Even without having to kneel by it and dip her fingers into one of the lines, she knew that it had been done with blood. "Damn it."
"Wait. It gets better," Zerbrowski said quietly. Aedan looked up at him. The look on his face suggested that his definition of better meant worse. Sighing, she stood and motioned for him to lead the way. They went up a set of pitted concrete steps and in through a back door. The house was dark, the air fetid and stale. And tainted, ever so slightly, with the smell of death and decay. Portable lights had been put up inside the building, the stark brightness showing every water stain, every strip of peeled wallpaper, every speck of dirt and trash that had been left behind. And it made a mockery of the corpse laying sprawled amongst the waste. Just another, larger piece of garbage.
Aedan nodded at Dolph and Detective Perry. Neither man said anything, simply stayed a few steps back and gave her room to work. She walked the perimeter of the body, eyes taking in everything she could see. For the time being, the exhaustion had rolled back to leave her wide awake and firing on all cylinders. Once she'd made a full circuit, she crouched down beside the body and started with the head.
"No gun shot wound on this one," she said, pointing at the woman's forehead. It was smooth and unblemished. Aedan glanced up over her shoulder. "I'm the last one, right?" Dolph nodded. Turning back to the body, Aedan lifted the woman's head and felt the back of it with one hand. There was a large dent there and her hand came away with a thin layer of blood on it. "Someone hit her on the back of the head. I don't know if it was the killing blow or if it just incapacitated her."
"What else do you see?"
"There's the same symbol as the last lycanthrope and out on the driveway," she commented, her eyes gazing at the woman's belly. "There are no hesitation marks this time. Either the person who did it has gotten more accustomed to it, or it was done by someone else. Someone who didn't hesitate. No silver chains this time."
Aedan recalled the body from the warehouse and moved to open the body's mouth. The light was bright enough that she didn't need a flashlight to see the back of the throat. As with the last body, silver glimmered there. "Liquid silver in the throat." She began raking her eyes the length of the woman's torso, looking for some clue or hint. Beyond the carving, she saw nothing. There were no stab wounds or bullet holes to be seen. Nothing to mar the smooth perfection of her torso beyond the carved symbol. There had to be something more.
Trying to keep her face impassive, Aedan shifted her position and moved down toward the woman's hips. This was not her idea of a good time, but she had to know. There was no need to pry the woman's legs open because she'd died with them spread. A frown settled on her face. "Have the coroner check for the presence of semen. There are dried fluids in the pubic hair. And there's something silver lodged in her rectum." There was blood dried beneath her body, but that had no doubt already been seen.
"She's a victim of the same killer or killers responsible for the last body?" Dolph asked. Aedan could see that he'd been taking notes. She rose to her feet slowly.
"I'm fairly certain that she is.You might want to have your FBI profiler confirm it for you. That's not my area of expertise. I'm your supernatural person." She sighed and glanced around at the trash. The deep breath dragged all of the mixed odors into her nose. Something pungent and familiar clung to the back of her throat. She frowned and took a deeper breath. It was hard to place, the stench of built up dirt, trash and other things stronger than the scent she was looking for. But she'd smelled it before, so she would know it when she sifted it out.
Ah. There it was. Something musky. Something furry. "Aedan?" Dolph's voice held a much longer question.
"You've conducted a thorough search of the place, right?" she questioned. He nodded in reply, already flipping pages in his notebook.
"We found what looked like it could have been used as a bed. There's no furniture at all. So we won't be sure until the boys at the crime lab have a look at it," he told her.
"Show me." Dolph said nothing, simply motioned for her to follow him. She trailed behind him as he led her toward a room at the back of the house. The musky smell was stronger here, climbing into her nose and hanging around until she felt the need to cough. She wondered if she was the only one who smelled it or if the others simply didn't know what it was. The room they stepped into was ripe with the musky odor, as well as a stale cloud of old sex. "They used this room as a den."
"What?" Dolph sounded surprised by her statement.
"There's a smell on the air, sort of a musky scent. Did anyone notice it?" she stared around the room. Whatever they'd used as bedding had long since been bagged up and taken away as evidence
"A few of us. We thought it was mold," Zerbrowski told her.
"It isn't mold. Its the scent of wolves," she replied, poking around. Crouching once more, she found that there were scratch marks gouged into the wooden slats. "Have we gotten the DNA back from the other victim?"
"No. Not yet."
"I'm willing to bet that it comes back with the lycanthropic virus in it." There were rogue shifters committing these crimes? Was it possible? Did Richard have any clue about this? She was going to have to confront him. The thought put a smile on her face. Which died moments later when she tried to figure out why these shifters, if they were shifters, were turning against their own? Just what the hell was going on here?
"Detective Storr? There's a..." a man began, trailing off as if he didn't know what to say. The voice belonged to a uniform cop. They all turned to look at him as he stepped into the room. His face was a mask of confusion as he apparently struggled for the right words. "There's a gentleman outside waiting to see Miss Kinkade."
Aedan frowned at that and came to her feet. Who would know where she was? The only person who came to mind was Edward because he always seemed to know where she was. Would it be wise to keep him waiting? Probably not. She turned to Dolph. "Are we done here?"
"Is there anything else you can tell me?" he asked.
"Nothing that you probably already don't know yourself." She shrugged a shoulder. Chances were good that he knew more than he was willing to let on. He just wanted to be sure that he had the right information. She didn't suppose she could blame him. "Everything I've told you can be confirmed by the M. E."
"Then go take care of your visitor. Thank you for coming," Dolph told her. Aedan nodded and turned to leave the room. She tried not to show that she was moving slower than she should have been, tried not to let them see just how exhausted she really was. Her steps were careful as she picked her way back through the trash toward the door they'd come in at. Even if she wasn't glad to see Edward, she would be glad for his car.
There wasn't a blonde head waiting for her when she stepped out of the house. And she was suddenly glad that the press hadn't shown up yet. She didn't know what miracle had made that possible, but she wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Because there was no way in hell that she wanted the press to see who was there waiting for her.
A limo was pulled up to the curb, idling almost silently. Several of the uniforms standing around were staring at the individual leaning casually against the car. Aedan muttered a curse and rolled her eyes. Damn it. Just what she didn't need. There should be a rule about the undead showing up at her job. At least not without her invitation or having raised it from the grave. But there Jean Claude stood, watching her with eyes so intense that she could feel them roving up and down her body. Standing there, she was suddenly aware of his power playing across her skin. How had she missed his arrival?
"Hey, Kinkade. Your bag is still in my car. Don't forget..." Zerbrowski's voice trailed off as he stepped up behind her. She was fairly certain his eyes were directed toward the limo and the man beside it. A second later, she was slapped by a thick wave of tension and she knew without looking that Dolph had come out with the other man. "Isn't that the Master of the City?"
She closed her eyes and tried to still the sudden pounding of her heart. "It is," she confirmed.
"And he's here to pick you up?"
"Apparently so."
"Aedan." Dolph's voice was low, filled with the hatred he had for the undead. She lifted a hand to halt his speech. It didn't work. "He's a corpse. What are you doing with him?"
She turned slowly to face him, all expression wiped from her face. She could see the anger boiling in his eyes. Aedan made sure to speak slowly and clearly. "I'm an animator. I deal with the dead. I'm also a big girl, Detective Storr. I can associate with whomever I choose. What I'm not is your daughter. Nor am I Anita Blake. And I am not having this conversation with you. Not now. Not ever. If you can't handle that my abilities bring me in contact with the Master of the City, that's your problem. He doesn't get in the way of my being able to do my job. Any relationship he and I may or may not have is none of your concern."
She could see that he wanted to say something to her. His face was red with anger and the effort it took to hold it in. He didn't open his mouth, though, and simply stared at her. She could also see in his eyes that whatever relationship there might have been between herself and Dolph was now destroyed. It shouldn't have bothered her as much as it did. After several moments of simply staring at one another, she turned and stalked across the dead lawn.
Zerbrowski came after her, hurrying ahead of her to go to his car. She followed after him and waited while he unlocked the vehicle. Reaching in, she took hold of her bag, hefting it up on to one shoulder. He stared at her, a question in his eyes. All she could do was offer him a smile, then she walked off before things could get any more complicated than they already were. She could feel two sets of eyes on her back as she approached Jean Claude and his limo.
"Good evening, ma poupette," he greeted her as she drew near. Aedan said nothing, simply climbed into the back of the limo when he held the door for her. By the time he slipped in beside her, she'd already dragged a bottle of some alcohol from the mini fridge. "You do not need to drink, Aedan."
"What are you doing here?" she asked quietly, ignoring his comment.
"Edward found your car in the cemetery. He was concerned that something had happened and he called me. I used our connection to find you." She could feel his eyes on her as she splashed liquid into the tumbler she held. He said nothing more, simply watched her as she swallowed the clear alcohol down, then poured another glass. "Please, ma poupette. Put the alcohol away. You are already worn down. Drinking will only make it worse."
"I need to be numb when I climb into bed. I won't be able to sleep otherwise."
"I could ensure that you get all the sleep you need," he said, voice low and soft. It stroked velvet fingers of promise up and down her arms, along the length of her spine, until the sensation of touch crept deep into her belly. Heat rolled through her. She told herself resolutely that it was from the vodka. She lifted the glass in his direction as a reply. Jean Claude frowned at her, then reached out and carefully plucked the bottle from her hand. She shot him a glare before swallowing the last of the alcohol in her glass, lest he take that from her, too.
He did, but he waited until it was empty. Then he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and gently tugged her closer to his body. His power crept over her skin like the hands of a lover, touching her in ways no one else would ever be able to. She tried to block out the sensations it brought to life within her, but it was getting harder and harder to deny the things that she felt were going on between them.
She responded to his power like nothing else. Anytime she was near him, it called to her, begged her to give in and let it take control. She responded to him like no one else. Aedan couldn't recall ever having felt like this about anyone before. And she hated it. She didn't want to feel anything for the vampire beside her. He didn't care about her. How could he? He'd been in love with Anita.
That tiny part of her that held Ldf crept out into the light and pointed out that Aedan was a necromancer, that there was no way Jean Claude wanted her for anything other than her power. It was the way of vampires. Especially master vampires. They were always searching for ways to consolidate and expand their power base. She was fairly certain that that was what Aedan represented for him. A way to be the strongest, the most powerful. She wasn't going to give her heart where it wasn't wanted because she'd never be anything more than she was.
A sigh escaped her as she snuggled closer to him, exhaustion taking a firm hold. She shouldn't have allowed herself to use him as a pillow, but the need to rest was making her reckless. Besides, just a moment or two couldn't possibly hurt. Could it?
She came awake to Jean Claude effortlessly carrying her down the stairs that led to the underground lair. Aedan turned her face into his chest, filled with a sense of peace that would have normally frightened her. But the haze of alcohol and too little sleep kept her from considering things too deeply. Instead, she allowed herself to listen to the slow, steady thump of his heart in his chest while the gentle rocking motion brought on by his walking lulled her back toward slumber. She floated in that cottony cocoon until the solid reality of a mattress beneath her and his hands working her shoes from her feet pulled her out of it.
"Jean Claude, why am I in your bed?" she asked through a yawn. He said nothing, simply pulled the sock from her foot and tossed it aside. She wasn't sure that she should be here. Not right now, when her emotions were so jumbled and her inhibitions almost non-existent. He was so beautiful, moved with a grace that she would never have in her life. And by God, she wanted him. She wanted to strip him naked and run her hands over his so pale skin, wanted to touch every inch of him. She wanted him to wrap her in his arms until she was literally blanketed by death. Because he was dead.
No matter how alive he looked, he was still dead. And she didn't care.
He was at the dresser, sifting through the contents of one of the drawers, his back turned to her. Aedan slid from the bed and reached for the zipper of her dress slacks. They slithered to the floor with a soft rasp of noise as the slick material glided against her skin. Her blouse came next, the silky material floating silently to the ground. Her bra was just joining the rest of her clothes when Jean Claude turned to look at her. She watched as his eyes flicked up and down her body. "What are you doing, ma poupette?" he asked softly.
"You're so beautiful. Did you know that?" She closed the distance between them. He watched her come, still as a snake that had spotted its prey and was preparing to strike. Her fingers reached for the buttons on his shirt, plucking at them until they slipped their holes and the two panels spread wide open. "So perfect."
"Aedan, perhaps you should sleep. Your exhaustion beats at me and I would rather that, were we to do what is so obviously on your mind, we were both willing, knowing partners."
She leaned forward and pressed her lips against the cross shaped scar that marked the pale perfection of his chest. A smile slid over her face when he shivered under her touch. Ignoring his words, she lifted up on tip toes until she could brush her lips against his. A groan rolled up his throat as his composure fled and his arms wrapped around her. His mouth took hers in a bruising, possessive kiss that thrilled her all the way down to the soles of her feet.
Hands cupped her backside, pressed her closer to him. She moaned at the feel of his arousal pressed so tightly against her. Without being prompted, she wrapped her legs around his waist while her arms slipped up to encircle his neck.
His mouth moved against hers slowly, with a great deal of patience and expertise. When his tongue prodded her lips, they parted to him. A shudder rolled up her spine as his tongue speared into her mouth, danced against her own while tasting every inch of the moist, hot cavern. It felt so good and so very right. Aedan wanted nothing more than to give herself to him. Either she made some noise or he read the thought from her head. He was in motion in the blink of an eye.
Once more, she found herself lying on the soft mattress of his bed. His body covered hers, pinning her there. His hips fit into the cradle of her thighs as if they'd been made for it. His erection ground against her soft flesh, bringing a soft gasp up her throat. He swallowed it down, his hands trailing down her sides until they found the straps of her panties. His fingers toyed with the satiny material and left her breathless.
When his mouth broke from hers, it was to travel across her cheek. He kissed his way along her throat until he came to her shoulder blade. Tiny nips sent ripples of pleasure skittering under her skin. Disappointment filled her when he rose up onto his knees and stared down at her. Despite their lack of engaging in full on sex, she felt heavy and full. His eyes were fully blue, drowning deep and dangerous. He slid from the bed and reached for his pants. Aedan offered him a smile, fully prepared to watch him strip naked.
Much against her will, her eyes fluttered shut and the last thing she heard as slumber claimed her once more was his voice, filled with frustration, as it muttered in French.
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And geez, Aedan is going to tease Jean Claude until he explodes, isn't she? lol That's just mean. ;)
Great work, hun! Can't wait to see what's next.
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yeah. its goingto be one of those things that will get her into trouble, i'm sure. its kind of a running joke. after she fell asleep on him the last time...
glad you enjoyed it, sweetie. took me fucking long enough. hopefully it won't take as long with the next one.
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I'd say more, but I really should be sleeping now.
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gotta beat some sense into that girl. honestly.
glad you enjoyed it, sweetie.
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* takes a breath * Ok. Here we go...
This was a great chapter LDF. We got to see a bit of Isis, Minette, and Aedan tonight.
I really liked the bit with Aedan and Jean-Claude at the very end. Fell asleep on the man before they could do anything! I don't blame him for cussing up a storm when he saw that she passed out. That poor man is forever getting frustrated with her. If its not one thing its another. Though to be fair her sleep pattern apparently hasn't been the best lately. And if you don't give in willingly at some point, it'll choose a time for you and it most likely will be at the most inopportune time.
And I see our favorite incestuous pair has made a reappearance. There has to be more than meets the eye with them. I mean, what drove them to this state? From what I can gleam, it looks like the brother initiated everything between them up to this point. Sounds like there is some serious back story here that I am sure will come out in the end.
Very curious those two.
Anyway. I also see we have another lycanthrope murder. And wolves are involved again. I wonder if its a rouge pack that has come into town and is hiding out, or is it a group from Richards pack that has gone rouge but keeping that under wraps? Hmm...Interesting. And I wonder if it is possible.
Hmm...Gonna keep that in my head for now...
* sighs * Anyway, great chapter LDF. A lot of eye candy and some brain snacks.
=)
( YAY! I made it to the end finally! :P )
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yes. we get to see a little bit of a few of the girls. typical night for them. maybe.
Aedan and Jean Claude. that whole falling asleep on him bit is going to be a running gag. at the moment, Aedan is having a hard time acclimating to the murders. so its spilling over into every other part of her life. hence Aedan going to sleep on Jean Claude. that will get cleared up eventually, though it'll probably happen again.
and yes. the incest couple. there is more to them than you know right now. and i'm sure i will clear it up eventually. you just need to be patient and i just need to get there.
another death. who it is that's doing this and why will come out later, too. promise.
i'm glad you enjoyed it, hon. here's hoping the next chapter won't take so long!
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I can't wait ( actually I can ) to learn more about them. They have my full attention for some reason. Maybe because there is more going on, like you said that meets the eye right now.
I shall chew on the brain snacks you have provided. And chase it down with some M&M's..heh heh...
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and yes. the incest sibs are kind of intriguing. so in good time. promise.
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Lovely chapter, hun. I enjoyed every bit of it. Poor Jean-Claude. If I were him, I'd make sure that Aedan started getting some regular, uninterrupted sleep. That way she can't pass out on him again. lol
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yes. poor Jean Claude is about ready to explode, isn't he? Aedan needs to be on a regular schedule. she won't be helpful to anyone if she isn't.
i don't know what took me so long with this one, honestly. but it gave me fits.
i'm glad you enjoyed, sweetie. here's hoping the next chapter won't be such a bitch.