Blood Lines
Jul. 17th, 2012 11:23 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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marysuevirusTitle: Blood Lines
Chapter Four: Questions
Fandom: something like the Marvel Universe, leaning mostly toward the Movie!Avengers branch. but with vampires. and werewolves. in a historical setting.
Rating: 18 and up
Warnings: lots of sex and violence, some language, anything else i can toss in. blood play/drinking. M/M, M/F, M/F, F/F, and any other combination that strikes my fancy
Disclaimer: the recognizable characters and places contained herein are the property of Marvel and whoever the hell else owns them.. 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,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
dazzledfirestar, mistress_o_muse, ginevrasm, rylan_m, and ladydeathfaerie. the concept and title of The Mary Sue Virus are used with permission from Dazzledfirestar.
Blood Lines - The Index
~*~
"Clinton," Miriam called after the young man. He turned to look at her, face devoid of any emotion at all. She hid her frown and motioned at him with one hand. "Come here, my sweet. I would like to speak with you."
His expression didn't change, betrayed nothing of what he was thinking, but she could sense the inner turmoil bubbling under the thin veneer of calm. He nodded curtly and strode back to where she waited for him, every step full of purpose. She watched him with an intense, searching gaze. Just as she'd been doing for the past several nights.
There had been something different about him since he'd heard of the mortal girl's impending marriage, something off and very unlike him. It worried Miriam to see him so unsettled because one of Clinton's greatest skills was his unflappable calm in the face of any dangerous or important situation. That wasn't to say that he didn't have his moments of anger and rage, or sullenness, or exuberant joy. They all did. Even though they'd found that something in the change altered some traits to make their long lives bearable, there were certain things that the change never touched. Vampires still felt human emotions and thought human thoughts. The need for blood didn't change that. Still, she'd known Clinton all of his undead life and to see him so... discombobulated by a female was a strange thing.
He would never speak of it, but Miriam knew that he had feelings for the girl. She'd known that the first night he'd told them of the mortal. There had been few enough women in Clinton's life who were not vampire and who understood what he was. In fact, so far, the number of women who had accepted him as one of the undead was none. After the last failed attempt at a relationship, he'd done his best to keep his interest from wandering beyond the field of acceptable liaisons. She'd only seen him with other vampires for a very long time now. Something about this Alexis Quinn was special.
Her impending nuptials were effectively messing with Clinton's head.
"My Lady?" Clinton asked when he came to a halt before her.
"Walk with me in the gardens, Clinton. Converse with me," she requested, adding a touch of purr to her voice so that he knew she wished for his companionship. He gave a curt incline of his head, then offered her his arm. She gave him a coy smile, pleased that he had been taught manners. She'd heard whispers that chivalry was dying, but such a thing would never happen with men like Clinton and Phillip still living.
They were silent as they made their way along the stone corridor, Clinton's mind strangely still and silent against her own. Miriam knew he was trying to hold his thoughts, trying to hide them from her because he obviously didn't want her to know what kinds of things were going through his head. She allowed him his privacy for the moment, simply enjoying his presence at her side. She'd always enjoyed Clinton's presence in her life. He was beautiful in body and mind. Years as a soldier had honed his muscles into sculptured perfection. Added to the magnificence of his face, he was the picture of virile male that few women could deny. Under all of that masculine glory was a sharp, keen mind that hungered for every scrap of knowledge it could find. The only man she'd ever met that attracted her even more than Clinton was Phillip.
There was a slight sliver of the moon hanging lonely in the night sky. Millions of stars twinkled around it, tiny jewels embedded in the midnight tapestry hung over the world. Several other members of the coven were making use of the lair's gardens, and every one of them gave a bow or curtsey as she and Clinton passed.
The path under their feet was made up of ancient flagstones, laid out in intricate designs that led one deeper and deeper into the gardens. Rows of bushes and trees created walls between the different branches of the path. There were stone and iron benches to rest upon and various night blooming flowers that filled the air with their fragrant scents. They made their way toward the center of the garden, where a small pond was surrounded by Evening Primrose, Moon flowers, and Four O'Clocks. As soon as the few members of the coven who were lingering at the water's edge saw Miriam and Clinton approach, they bowed their heads in respect and withdrew, leaving the area empty save for their Lady and the Captain of her guard.
Clinton seated her on the bench first, then waited for her to motion him to join her. When he settled beside her, she turned to look at him and reached out to take hold of one of his hands with her own. She gave him a searching gaze, her free hand reaching up to cup his cheek gently. "My Lady?" he asked, his real question hidden in those two words.
"I worry about you, Clinton."
"There is nothing wrong, my Lady. You worry over naught," he said firmly.
"You wouldn't lie to me, would you, Clinton?" she asked softly. She saw the hesitation on his face as he considered how to answer her. Miriam gave him a gentle smile. "I know you pine for her, Clinton. I know that there is something special about this girl. What I don't know is why you have done nothing about it yet."
"She's to be married at the end of this week," he replied quietly, his gaze slipping away. He kept his thoughts from her but, based on what she felt from him, his last encounter with the girl had been something special and erotic. "There is nothing to do about it."
"Ah, yes. A marriage. Because these things are always decided by two young people in love with themselves, each other, and the world." The meaning of her words didn't escape him, and Clinton turned a sheepish look her way. "There is no need to apologize, my sweet. Just answer me a few questions."
"If I can," he promised.
Miriam watched him for a few seconds, taking note of the way his eyes had darkened just from speaking about the girl. Oh, yes. There was emotion there. Deep emotion, though she doubted he knew just how deep it went at the moment. She gave him a smile and let her fingers stroke along his cheek. "Does she love this man she is betrothed to? Does she wish this marriage?"
"She barely knows him, my Lady," he replied evenly. She smiled before he could say anything else because, really, wasn't that the way of the world? "I've been inside her mind. She finds him handsome enough to look upon, but she doesn't know him. And she feels nothing for him that she believes would be helpful inside of a marriage."
"So she does not wish to marry him?" Miriam asked carefully.
"I saw her that night, during the party. She didn't want to be anywhere near him. Her thoughts turned..." his voice trailed off and he glanced away.
Miriam smiled again, her hand reaching for his chin. A little pressure saw him turning his face back toward her. "Her thoughts turned to you," she finished for him. Before he could deny her words or make some excuse, she laid her fingertips against his mouth. "You have no need to say such things, Clinton. I can see it in your eyes. The girl is smitten with you, isn't she? On the day she formally announced her intentions to the world, in the midst of family and friends, her thoughts kept straying toward you."
"Aye," he replied, though she hadn't asked him any questions.
"And you would let her go through with a marriage she doesn't want because this is what you believe should happen? Do you think she will be happy in her marriage to this man? Will she be happy to give up the road and the fights? Do you think she will welcome a pregnancy that will leave her rounded and uncomfortable?" He answered none of her questions, his jaw tightening with each one until she felt he would shatter his teeth. But she knew how he wanted to answer those questions. She could feel the denial vibrating along his skin. They both knew that this girl was different from others of her kind. Miriam pursed her lips and tried another line of thought. "Do you think she will be happy in this man's bed?"
"No," he denied vehemently. She bit back the smile that threatened to spread across her face and instead leveled a look on him.
"And you are sure of this how?" Clinton stared at her and refused to say anything. His jaw tightened until already pale skin went white with strain. Miriam sighed and squeezed his hand. "Clinton, answer me. How do you know she would not be happy in his bed? Do not force me to seek out the answers for myself."
"Because she was more than eager to share her bed with me," he replied, heat edging every word so that it felt like she was being flayed with fire. Miriam stared at him in surprise, wondering if he'd lost his mind. She might have asked him that question, too, but he shook his head and got up so that he could stalk to the edge of the pond. "I didn't take her virginity, my Lady. She made it clear that it needed to remain in place. But she let me touch her and kiss her and explore every last inch of her. She let me taste her. And she enjoyed every single moment of it."
"And yet, after all of that, you would let her marry a man she has no interest in when its clear she wishes to be with you?" Miriam questioned.
"I should allow myself to hope for that after all that has come before? Should I let her crush my heart in my chest? She won't accept who and what I am." He sounded so sure of that. His pain lanced through her, making her heart ache for him.
"How do you know she won't accept you? Have you shown her what you are?"
"You know that I have not," he whispered hoarsely.
"Then how can you know, Clinton? You've already discovered that she is nothing like other women. Why can she not be different in this, as well? Why can she not accept you for what you are?" Miriam asked him.
"Because we've seen how mortal women react when they find out exactly what I am!" he snarled, not bothering to turn and look at her. There was anguish in his voice, along with a healthy dose of self-loathing. If there was one thing Clinton has always wanted, it was the ability to call someone his own. He'd tried to do just that over the long years of his unnatural life, but each attempt had resulted in a renewed determination to never seek out the love of another woman again.
Miriam watched him silently for several long moments. She hated seeing him like this, hated that he felt so little of himself that he would risk real happiness - and she could see that Alexis Quinn would bring him all the happiness he wanted and deserved - because he didn't dare trust that there was a mortal out there who could accept him as he was. His lack of faith hurt her heart.
In some ways, he was very much like her child. Oh, he'd come to them as a full grown adult. But she'd watched him grow after he'd been changed and she'd personally overseen much of his education from the moment she'd noticed he hungered for knowledge. So it made watching him rage against the injustice of being slightly different from everyone else that much more difficult to bear. Because the inclination to solve his problems for him was always there, lingering under the surface. And the sad truth was, there was no telling how this situation would play out because she knew very little about the girl who had stolen his heart.
If she thought it would help, she'd go to Miss Alexis Quinn and explain it all to her. She'd tell the girl all about Clinton and their way of life. She'd offer the girl a place within their coven, as a member of their odd little family. She'd let the child know that, despite having to drink blood to exist and not being able to give her children, Clinton was just like any mortal man she'd ever meet. Yes, if she thought it would work, she'd pay a visit to the girl tonight and...
Miriam's thoughts trailed off and she blinked. Was that the answer? Was it so simple as all that? Could she do it?
Masking her thoughts, she rose from her seat on the stone bench and slowly approached him. He tensed when her hand touched his arm, but he didn't break away from her. She took it as a win. "There will come a day when you will find the woman for you, Clinton. When that day comes, none of these petty things will matter. You'll see, my sweet."
He said nothing in response, but she wasn't expecting him to. Pulling away from him, Miriam picked her way back toward the bench, passed it by and made for the path. She did a quick search to find out where Phillip was and set off to meet up with him.
There were plans to be made.
~*~
Phillip was in his private study, bent over some correspondence that required timely answers. She smiled when he lifted his head to stare at her. A faint smile pulled at the corners of his mouth and he returned his quill to its stand so that he could give his full attention to his wife. "You're thinking of doing something devious, beloved. I can see it in your eyes."
"There never was any use hiding things from you, husband," she returned with a mock pout. Phillip did smile at that. He also turned in his seat so that he was fully facing her. She crossed to where he sat and leaned up against his desk, one hand reaching down absently to run through his hair. There were few things she liked better than to simply touch Phillip.
"What is it that you want to do this time, wife?" he asked gently, one hand reaching up to rest on her hip.
"I wish to meet Clinton's young mortal woman," she replied without even attempting to distract him with sweet words or the press of flesh. Phillip knew all of her tricks by now so it seemed pointless to try and sway him with a cheap tactic. The truth in this case would be far better. Her words saw his gaze turning serious.
"Do you think such a move wise?" Phillip questioned.
"Likely not, husband. But she has stolen Clinton's heart. And he refuses to do anything about it."
Her husband studied her, his blue eyes kind and gentle as he did so. She no doubt knew what he was thinking, but she would not be swayed in this matter. Clinton knew that he was always welcome in their bed with them together or either one of them alone, but he would never fully be happy because he wanted someone of his own. More than that, he needed and deserved someone he could spend a cold night with. Just the two of them. Miriam was determined to give him that, no matter what it took. "Perhaps you should leave this to him?" Phillip suggested lightly.
"If I don't take action, Clinton will let it go. The wench will marry another and grow old before her time, burdened with a man she cares nothing for and children she never asked for."
"How do you know she doesn't want children, Miriam?"
"She spends her nights fighting off ruffians along side the roads. Do such actions belong to a woman who wants to be saddled with a husband and children?"
Phillip sighed and reached up to cup her face. "Miriam, you should allow Clinton to deal with this matter as he chooses. Interfering will only create more problems than solutions."
"Do not attempt to placate me, Phillip. It is because of me that he finds himself in the position of being unable to find a woman to love. He cares for this girl already. Letting her go off and marry some stupid bastard who doesn't see a prize when he's looking at one is the worst thing we could allow to happen." She gave him her stubborn look. "Please, Phillip. This is important to me. I wish to see this girl for myself. I wish to determine if she deserves such devotion from him. And I wish to discover whether or not she is the woman for him."
"You plan on telling her his secret to see how she reacts," Phil commented flatly.
"He's as good as my child, Phillip. I can act the role of the mother when it comes to his happiness. And I will. Gladly. He's pining for her. If she marries this other man, we'll lose him," she insisted, voice growing strident with each new word. Stopping, she took a deep breath to calm herself and shook her head. "I will not lose him, Phillip. You saw how hard he took it when the last one turned away from him. After Karla shunned him, it took nearly a century to draw him out of himself again. If he loses this girl, I fear what will become of him."
"Miriam, my beautiful wife, I know you feel responsible for Clinton. I dislike that he seems... " Phillip trailed off, obviously looking for a word he believed described the other man perfectly. "I dislike that he so fully dedicates himself to us as much as you do. But do you think it wise to take the initiative with this? If this girl shuns him and he finds out that you're to blame for that, he'll never forgive you."
"I have faith that this girl is much more forward thinking than any of her predecessors. You're talking about a woman who spends her nights defending the innocent from ruffians and thugs." Miriam felt no remorse in reminding Phillip of that fact. It was partially what had drawn Clinton's attention to the girl in the first place.
"We cannot force the girl to accept Clinton. And giving him false hope would only be cruel. Let it be, my love. Let nature take its course in this matter," Phillip suggested quietly.
"She marries at the end of the week, Phillip. Shall I sit back and allow Clinton's one real chance at happiness to walk down the aisle to wed another man? How would you feel if such had happened with me?"
"It was different with us, Miriam, and well you know it. You cannot compare his life to ours."
"You would deny him his chance at happiness?" she questioned carefully. There were very few occasions when she'd ever gotten mad at Phillip. But if he denied her this opportunity, she was going to take great pleasure in being angered with him for a very long time.
"Why should we risk his heart again? If he's certain that this girl will not accept him, we would be remiss in trying to force her to do so." She could see that he was very much certain of this.
"Phillip, I have a feeling. Clinton didn't say as much, but I'm sure he's marked her. And I can feel the need for her pouring from him even though he tries to hide it. This girl is different. She's the one. But we'll never know if we don't go pay her a visit."
Phillip heaved another sigh and Miriam knew she'd won. "This is a horrible idea, beloved. What happens when it backfires?"
"It won't, my love. I'm sure of it."
He chuckled at that, drawing her closer to him. "And how are you going to convince Clinton to allow you to do this thing?" he asked her.
Miriam gave him a wicked smile before leaning down to press a kiss to his lips. "I don't plan on telling him I'm going," she replied.
Her words brought Phillip to his feet, his gaze turning serious in the blink of an eye. The weight of his hands on her shoulders was not a comfort. It was meant to convey his displeasure with her. "You will not go to meet this strange woman on your own, Miriam. You must take someone with you."
She gave him a cheeky grin and shrugged his hands off of her shoulders before stepping in closer to him so that she could slide her arms up around his neck. "I did say we, didn't I?" When he gave her a skeptical look, she only smiled wider and pressed closer. "There is no one in the lair stronger than you, my love. That means there is no one better suited to the task of watching over me."
He studied her face for a few long moments. The silence stretched between them as he simply looked down at her. Miriam smiled at him, waited patiently even though she knew that he wouldn't deny her this. He loved Clinton as if the man was a brother. He would do anything to see the other man happy. So she kept her thoughts to herself and waited for him to agree to her plan. He would go with her. And he would help her make Alexis Quinn see that there was nothing wrong with Clinton. Nothing at all.
"Very well, my pet. Go make yourself ready. I'll find some task to give to Clinton that will keep him busy whilst we make our escape. But you will promise me that you will leave this alone if things do not work out the way you think they will. We'll erase the girl's memory of our visit and leave it at that."
"Of course, my love," Miriam agreed with a graceful nod. Phillip pressed a hungry, brutal kiss to her lips. It was a promise that they were going to discuss her desire to interfere in Clinton's life at a later date. She smiled at him, letting him know she was looking forward to it. He drew away and headed for the door, pausing at the twin wooden panels to look back at her. Even from a distance, she could see that a fire was burning in his eyes. Phillip was as eager to go on this little trip as she was. Because he wanted to see Clinton just as happy as she did. He slipped out of the room and went off in search for Clinton.
Miriam smiled, whispered a prayer to whomever might be listening that this would go well, and drifted toward her chambers so that she could dress for the evening.
~*~*~*~*~
The loud clang of steel on steel echoed through the night. Alexis had been lying in wait for the next band of ruffians when a carriage being trailed by four mounted riders had come into view. Her lucky day. She'd already dealt with two of the fiends with pistol balls to some part of their bodies after calling out to the carriage inhabitants that they should stay inside their conveyance until it was safe to come out. They'd be going nowhere with a large tree felled across the road. She'd help the driver move it after she was done with the men responsible for its being there. She held a sword in one hand, a dagger in the other, and she was battling with the man she thought to be the leader of the group. He was a foul, dirty, unkempt man and he smelled. The way she saw it, she was doing the world a favor by ridding it of his presence.
Except he didn't seem to want to die. He parried each thrust, blocked every single strike. She was starting to think that perhaps she wouldn't be able to fend him off without serious injury.
His sword came down in an arc, the sharpened blade aimed for her skull. She twisted aside at the last possible moment and spun in toward him. The dagger in her hand sliced neatly through the flesh of the man's sword arm. The horses pulling the carriage whinnied nervously as the scent of blood, their hooves stamping sharply at the compacted dirt of the road. The man's sword slipped from his numb hand and hit the ground with a clang. Alexis gave a broad smile of triumph even before she buried the length of her blade in the man's chest.
"If you were to live through this night, I would tell you to remind your low class friends that this road belongs to me. But since you won't see the end of this fight, I'll just say my goodbyes now. Too bad you weren't much more of a fight," she whispered as she shoved him off the sword with one booted foot. The man grunted as he hit the ground, a gurgling sound rising up his throat. She might have taken a moment to gloat over puncturing a lung, but the fourth man chose that moment to stagger up from where she'd left him, letting go a low growl of rage as he charged in her direction.
"Bastard! I'll have yer guts for garters!" the man bellowed only seconds before his sword beat down against her own. The screech of metal against metal as he dragged his blade off hers made her ears ache and sheer force of will kept her from reaching up to cover her ears.
"You don't even know what that means, cad," she snapped and shoved into him. Her sudden move threw the man off balance and sent him staggering backward. Alexis pushed her advantage and followed him, her sword and dagger slicing through thin air with wicked intent. The man didn't falter, managing to keep himself just far enough out of reach of her blade to avoid being pierced while at the same time drawing her nearer and nearer the trees. She knew what would happen if he managed that and set about halting his steps.
She dropped the dagger, heard the soft clang as it hit the ground. Her opponent was smiling at her, as if he thought this meant she was his to take. A second later, she had the crossbow out, a bolt loaded and ready to be fired. The man stared and made to lunge toward her. Alexis aimed and released the trigger. The bolt flew true and drove itself through the man's forehead. He dropped without making a sound.
Sighing, she turned and set about retrieving her dropped weapons. The dagger was easiest to find because it was close to where she stood. But she had to recall where her pistols were, which meant searching for them in the dark. The creak of the carriage's springs reminded her that there were people waiting to be told they were safe. She turned to face the carriage and found that a couple had stepped down out of the conveyance. They were both staring at her.
"She's amazing, Phillip. Simply amazing. He's picked well." The woman said, looking up at the man standing beside her.
That man was watching her with sharp, intent eyes. There was a faint smile on his face that suggested he could be amused or possibly that he was contemplating what he might do with her. "She is quite proficient with her weapons. She would be an excellent match for him. Are you sure this is a wise course of action to take, my beloved?" The man asked the question without turning his attention away from Alexis. She had to wonder who the 'he' they were talking about actually was.
"Of course I am! Didn't you just see how perfect she is?" the woman responded, her voice silken and enchanting. Alexis thought that she could allow herself to become tangled up in that woman's voice, if she chose to do so. She shook her head and went in search of her pistols, edging carefully around the pair without taking her attention from them. She was surprised, then, that the woman moved closer and held out a hand and Alexis never really saw it happen. "Miss Quinn. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Miriam. And we have a mutual friend."
"I'm sorry?" she stopped and stared. This was a very strange conversation and she didn't know quite how to handle it. "I don't know who it is you think I know, but I--"
"Don't play coy with me, child. I know you are close to Clinton. I've come to discuss some things with you," the woman replied.
The mention of the man brought a rush of memories to the surface. Memories she had to force down lest they swamp her and drag her under their heady waves. She was still dreaming about that night after the engagement party, when Clinton had come to her rooms. The things he'd done to her... She struggled to clear her mind and give her attention back to the strange couple. The road wasn't the best place to lose her composure or her train of thought. She shot the strange woman a stern glare as she tried to seek out the pistols on the blackness.
"They're to your left. About six paces ahead," the woman told her confidently. Alexis shot the woman a look and didn't move an inch. The woman shook her head and sighed, then glanced to the man. "Phillip, be a darling and collect the girl's pistols. She doesn't trust us."
"Such a shocking development, Miriam. We're standing on a road notorious for its thieves and bandits, and the girl doesn't know us at all. Perhaps you should explain why we've sought her out while I retrieve her pistols. And her cloak." The man started walking toward the spot the woman had mentioned. "Is there anything else lost to the darkness that you need returned to you?" he asked Alexis pleasantly.
She did a mental run through of her weapons. She'd picked up her dagger. Her sword was still held bare in one hand. The crossbow hung from the back of her belt. No. All she needed was her pistols. She offered the man a timid smile and shook her head. "No. I think that would be everything."
"Very well," he nodded and disappeared into the shadows. Only seconds later, much too quickly for him to have found the weapons and her cloak and reached her side, he was standing beside her with the matched pistols and the black cloak. "Get on with it, Miriam. We haven't got all night. The girl is tired and would no doubt like to get some rest."
"You're being an old spoil-sport, Phillip." The woman, Miriam, was a timeless beauty with flowing red hair and the kind of clear, pale complexion that women would kill for. She smiled to find Alexis watching her and moved closer. "I've come to discuss Clinton with you, my dear. How do you feel about him?"
"I'm sorry? I don't think I understand," Alexis shook her head.
"Surely you can answer my question, my dear. What kind of feelings do you have for Clinton?" the woman asked her pointedly.
Alexis blinked and wondered why she was having this conversation with a stranger. More to the point, why would her feelings matter. She was getting married in two days. After that, it would be a moot point and there was nothing anyone could do to change the fact. Her feelings about Clinton didn't matter in the slightest.
"Ah, but I believe they do, child," the woman said, bringing Alexis' gaze her way. She hadn't said anything out loud. Everything had been in her head, nothing more than thoughts lost to the abyss of her mind. Was it possible that the woman had read her mind? Such things weren't possible. There was no way this woman could know the things that went through her head about Clinton.
The woman smiled and sent a triumphant glance toward the man with her. "Oh, child. You don't understand just how important your feelings are. You must tell me now. Aloud, so that we can both bear witness to them."
"I don't understand why you're here. I'm to marry Monsieur Remy LeBeau in two day's time. Whatever I might feel for Clinton is irrelevant in the face of my impending wedding." Alexis tried to keep the bitterness out of her tone. The woman gave her a look that said she understood, one hand reaching out to cup her chin.
"Clinton is very dear to me, Alexis. Very dear. His happiness is terribly important to me and these past few days have proven to me that his happiness is tied to you. If you wed your young mortal, I fear that Clinton will never recover from it."
"I... don't understand," Alexis replied. None of the woman's words had made sense. And Alexis just couldn't find any kind of coherent meaning to them.
The woman sighed and shook her head. "So smart and yet so naïve to the ways of the world. No, don't get upset at me, my dear. I'm simply stating a fact. What I'm trying to tell you, girl, is that Clinton is deeply in love with you. He might not know it yet, but he is. He's utterly beside himself at the idea that you will soon marry. He doesn't want it to happen."
"If he doesn't want it to happen, why isn't he telling me these things himself? Why are you here?" she asked, shifting position so that she could keep both the man and the woman in view.
"Clinton would never condone our coming to you," the man told her. There was a hint of reproach in his voice, as if he thought that she should know such a thing. It made her feel incredibly like a child again and she had to fight not to duck her head and hide. "But my beloved wife does make an excellent point. If you are to marry this man, Clinton will never be the same again. He's family to my wife and I. We want to see him happy. If you feel nothing for him, tell us and we'll see to it that he never seeks you out again. But if your have even the smallest affection for him, you have a hard choice ahead of you."
"I don't think you quite understand my situation. I'm betrothed. My parents have arranged the marriage. The wedding is set. My gown has been crafted and awaits the day. The church is booked. The invitations have been sent. Everything has been made ready," Alexis explained.
"But what about your heart, my dear?" Miriam asked softly. Gently, even. "What is it you want out of life? A marriage to a man who will saddle you with children you never desired? A life spent tied to a house. Never another chance to enjoy the thrill of a good sword fight? Never the opportunity to do this again? Is that what you want?"
"Breaking my marriage contract will ruin my family. I can't do that to them," Alexis responded curtly, even though that was exactly what she wanted to do. "And if Clinton has such feelings for me, why isn't he here to tell me about them himself? Why have you come in his stead?"
"Because Clinton is sure that you will not return his affections once you learn what he is," Miriam replied steadily. Alexis blinked at that. What was that supposed to mean? She let her gaze slide from the woman to the man, trying to discern what it was they were talking about. There was something eerie about them, about the way their eyes seemed to stare right at her. Right through her. How they seemed to simply stand there and not move. How they didn't appear to even breathe. There was something odd about both of them.
She would have stood there and considered their state of strangeness at length had it not been for a low sound of what must have been pain and anger mixed in equal parts. She spun, hand already bringing her sword up, to find that the first man she'd fought was on his feet again, lurching toward them with his sword clasped loosely in the hand on his uninjured arm. He held it awkwardly, the tip pointed toward Alexis. The man's face was white, his other arm soaked in blood. The same could be said for his chest. She had to wonder what the hell was going on because she was pretty sure she'd delivered a killing blow. She had to have missed. Somehow.
"Die, you bitch!" the man snarled, spitting blood at her with his words. She made to throw herself between the bloodied, not-quite-corpse and the couple who had been inside the carriage, stepping around the husband without a word. Only he wasn't there.
It was like she blinked. One second, he was standing near her side. The next instant, he was several feet away. One hand had hold of the ruffian's throat. The man's feet dangled a handful of inches off the ground. And the man holding the thug didn't even look strained. Alexis' eyes went wide with disbelief. Mother of God, what the hell was going on?
"Clinton didn't want to tell you about this," Miriam said from beside her, one hand motioning to the frozen tableau before them.
"What the bloody hell is this?" she demanded, not sure if she should take her eyes off the man to watch the woman or keep them where they were at. She sure as hell wasn't going to worry about her choice of very unladylike words.
"We're vampires, child," the man told her. Then he moved so fast, all she saw was a big blur. There was the sickening sound of bones breaking, then the thug was laying dead at her feet. His head had been twisted around on his neck. The eyes that looked out of his face were glassy and empty with death. When she tore her gaze away from the corpse, it was to find that the woman watched her with a broad smile.
A smile that revealed long, extended canines.
She might have started gibbering out of madness or fear just then. The very idea was far too appealing to her confused brain. But the strange ones' attention turned to the road behind them and a sense of peace seemed to wash over her. Relax, little girl. I'm coming.
~*~*~*~*~
The ground flew beneath his feet as he sped after his Lord and Lady. Damn them for their desire to leave the lair without protection. If he were stronger, he'd challenge Lord Phillip to a private fight just for the opportunity to pound some sense into the man. Didn't they know that leaving the castle without a proper contingent of guards was important to everyone's survival? Not just theirs, though Clinton knew that Lord Phillip and Lady Miriam were deadly in a battle. But even the best warrior could be could be overwhelmed and overthrown. He should have known that something was amiss when Lord Phillip had asked him to personally train a few of the newer recruits to the Elite Guard.
It had taken Clinton much longer than he'd liked to figure out that there'd been something going on. By the time he'd realized that he couldn't feel either of their presences within the castle, they'd been gone for nearly half the hour. Plenty of time for them to have gotten into all manner of trouble. He'd promised the head of the stables that he would personally deal with him just before tearing off after them.
It was the scent of the horses that had given him a direction to follow. It had surprised him to find that his Lord and Lady were on their way toward town. An ominous feeling had started low in his belly, had slowly worked its way up to cloud his brain until he'd put on extra speed in the hopes that he arrived at whatever location he was heading for before whatever foul event could occur.
He hadn't meant to fall into Alexis' thoughts. That had happened entirely by accident. Of course he'd marked her with the intent of monitoring her, of making sure that she was always safe. Always happy. Always there. Even if he couldn't have her, he would do whatever he could to protect her. And so it was that he'd sort of inadvertently slid into her mind while she'd been in the middle of a fight. That had left his loyalties torn. His mind and his sense of duty said he needed to protect his Lord and Lady. But his heart and the emotional pull he had for Alexis said he needed to protect her.
His mind was filled with a flurry of motion, of blurring swords and swinging arms. She was in the midst of a fight again and all he could think of was getting there in time to ensure she didn't go down. The fight ended, leaving her calm and peaceful. But only for a few moments. Soon enough, her heart was again pumping with the thrill of the fight, And then it was pumping in fear. She thought she was going to die.
He didn't think. He just did. His mind reached out to hers and took away the fear, burying it under layers of calm and peace. He sent her a message: Relax, little girl. I'm coming. And he closed the distance. Prepared himself to rip whatever threat had frightened her to pieces.
Only to come to a confusing halt when he found that Alexis standing beside the roadside, staring about her in confusion, caught in the halo of light from lanterns hung off a grand carriage that spoke of wealth. A carriage that should have been, at that very moment, parked in the coven's carriage house. Lord Phillip surveyed the scene around him with a bland face that hid his keen mind while Lady Miriam stood near enough to Alexis that she could actually sink fang into the woman's neck and Clinton would be helpless to stop her. That very idea sent icy fear cascading down his spine.
"Ah. Clinton. So glad you could join us, my sweet," Lady Miriam purred in delight. Her words seemed to break the spell that Alexis had been under because her body physically jolted. The woman turned her back to the emptiness of the forest behind her and pointed her sword at them. Something inside him withered and died just a little when the tip of her blade swung slowly toward him. "We were just having a little chat with your mortal, Clinton. I see why you like her. She's unlike any woman I've ever met before."
"You... You're one of them?" Alexis asked, voice a strained whisper. The question was for him, even though she never took her eyes off of Lord Phillip and Lady Miriam.
"Alexis, allow me to explain," he began. His words saw her turning toward him. The sword wavered, dipped a little. She seemed to forget anyone else was there and focused all of her attention on him. Had she been in real danger, it would have been a fatal mistake.
"What are you people?" The question didn't surprise him. But the lack of fear in it did.
"We told you, child. We're vampires." This from Lord Phillip, who sounded more bored than anything. It was a lie, though. Clinton knew him well enough to know that he was assessing the situation with intense thoroughness.
Alexis said nothing for several long moments. Clinton waited, his heart frozen in his chest. No one made a move toward Alexis, but she didn't lower her sword. "There are myths and legends. I've read about them in the few books on the occult that I've been able to find. But I never expected to meet one in person. I didn't think such creatures existed."
"There is some basis of truth for all myths and legends, child," Phillip told her softly.
"Is it true that you drink the blood of the living to survive? Does it have to be the blood of a virgin?"
The question saw Lady Miriam throwing her head back to offer the night a low, sultry laugh. Lord Phillip's lips twitched ever so slightly to show his amusement. Clinton, after long years of a life filled with death and blood and debauchery, felt himself blushing at the implications. Just a bit. "No, child. That is pure fabrication. While we do need blood to survive, we can take it from nearly any source."
A look passed her face as she processed that response. After a few moments, her gaze slid around between the three of them. "You're not going to drink my blood, are you?" Then a frown passed over her face and she turned to look at him. "You did drink my blood, didn't you? The other night. When you had your head between my thighs."
Clinton had the grace to look sheepish about that. "I took very little, Alexis. Just to create a strong bond between you and I. So that I could ensure your new husband does nothing to harm you."
The sword dropped completely, tip pointed at the ground without thought. Had she been in any danger from them, she'd have just signed her life away. Not that there was any hope Alexis would be able to defend herself from three vampires with age, speed, and strength on their sides. But the part of him that had already given itself over to her took note of the danger she'd put herself in and worried what would happen if she had to fight for her life.
"Would such a bond work if I was in France?" she asked, dragging him away from images of bloody battle done against any foe to keep her safe. Clinton blinked at her, momentarily confused by the question. "After we're married, I will be going to France to live there with my husband. Will your bond work over such a distance?"
"It would. Not as intently as if you and your husband were to live in here in town. But it would work," he told her quietly. She nodded and gave that some thought.
"But you would be unable to come immediately to my aide because of the distance. And because you are nocturnal creatures." She seemed to be speaking more to herself than to him, so he let her continue. "What point would that bond serve if you were unable to use it the way you intended?"
It was a good question. One he didn't have an actual answer for. He hadn't really considered that her husband would move her away to France after their wedding. He'd thought she would want to stay near her family. He'd thought that, just maybe, she'd ignore duty and follow her heart. He'd apparently thought wrong.
"Perhaps we should continue this conversation in the relative safety of the carriage," Phillip suggested, eyes scanning the distant darkness. A lone howl echoed up out of the night, reminding Clinton of the werewolves and their unforgiving nature.
"A wise decision, my Lord," Clinton nodded. "We'll escort you home, Alexis."
"I can take myself home, thank you very much," she retorted, her voice tart with something he couldn't name. It was strange. The whole night so far had been strange. He should have known that Lady Miriam would seek Alexis out. Because she couldn't really leave anything alone and he knew that she thought he needed to be happy. He'd honestly thought that Alexis would take issue with his not being completely alive. He'd thought that there would be all manner of problems, not the least of which being Alexis having a minor break down at idea that vampires existed.
He'd expected her to rant and rave upon hearing the news. He'd expected that she would promptly swoon and be a typical lady of the age. He hadn't expected her to accept the state of his being with such grace and aplomb. He hadn't expected her to act as if meeting a creature of myth and lore was an every day occurrence for her. He hadn't expected her to be okay with it. And he hadn't expected her to get upset when he offered to escort her home.
Alexis resheathed her sword and moved to collect the pistols and cape the man had dropped near her feet earlier. "Phillip, if you would be so kind," Lady Miriam directed as she reached out to take hold of Alexis' arm. "Come, child. Ride with us. There is still much we should discuss."
"I can bloody well take myself home. I don't need a ride. I'm quite capable of defending myself from any villain who crosses my path," Alexis replied, sounding sharp and brittle. Clinton tried to calm her through the bond, tried to remind her that he was there for her. But she ignored his actions and made to pull her arm from Lady Miriam's hold.
His Lady's indulgent smile slipped into something much less pleasant and the hand around Alexis' arm tightened down until the mortal gasped in pain. Her eyes went wide and she stared at Miriam in something akin to horror. And perhaps a little betrayal. "Girl, this night has been adventurous enough already. Please do not force me to force you to do something against your will. There really is much to discuss. If Clinton will not explain things to you, I will."
Alexis must have seen something in Lady Miriam's eyes that made her realize this wouldn't be over until she gave in and went along with it. She nodded her head. Once. Silently. Miriam released her hold on Alexis' arm and turned to look at him with a broad smile on her face. "Be a gentleman and collect the girl, will you? That's a good man, Clinton."
He could only nod his head absently, his thoughts whirling madly like a dervish, and offer Alexis a hand. Things were going so oddly this evening. So very strangely. He didn't know what to make of them. She stared at him for a moment or two, then smiled shyly and slid her hand into his. Clinton couldn't fathom that she wasn't afraid of him, but he took hold of her hand and escorted her to the carriage. Helped her up into it and settled on the bench next to her. Lord Phillip handed Lady Miriam in next, climbed into the carriage after her and took his seat on the bench beside his wife. She offered him an indulgent smile and leaned into him.
"Your pistols and cloak, my dear," Phillip said, offering weapons and the bundle of cloth to Alexis over the floor between the seats. She took them, setting them on her lap. After lifting a hand up to knock on the roof of the carriage, he drew Miriam closer to him and stared across at them. The carriage lurched into motion, jarring the passengers. Alexis was jostled into Clinton and he absently wrapped an arm around her to keep her from being thrown off the seat as the carriage swung about and started back toward the castle.
Phillip's sharp gaze slid over the both of them, watching them silently. Despite the carriage having righted itself, Alexis made no move to slip out from under his arm and Clinton had made no move to shift away from her. After several long seconds, Phillip turned to look at his wife. "It would seem, my dear, that your assessment of young Miss Quinn is quite correct."
"I told you she'd be different," Lady Miriam smiled. Her gaze sought out Clinton's. "She's perfect for you. Perhaps now, now that you know she isn't going to run away from you, you can tell her just how you feel."
Clinton sighed. So this was his Lady's game. His mind had been in turmoil from the moment he'd realized that his Lord and Lady had left the castle without a guard. That turmoil had grown to find that Alexis was in trouble. It had continued upon finding both parties together. He'd wondered what was going on, why his Lord and Lady were with Alexis. Now he knew. Lady Miriam had taken it upon herself to try and solve problems for him. And with that knowledge came full use of his mental faculties again. As much as he'd like to admit to Alexis that there was no one he'd rather spend the rest of his life with, the truth of the matter was it made no difference. "She's getting married soon, my Lady. It isn't my place to -- "
"Nonsense, Clinton. I've known you for more than four hundred years. I've watched you nearly destroy yourself because a woman could not accept you for what you were. You've found yourself the perfect woman. Don't let her slip away because of a minor technicality." Lady Miriam made a hand gesture that said everything and nothing at all.
"You would call marriage a minor technicality?" he questioned softly.
"It is if there is genuine affection and emotion between you and the girl. Do you love her? Do you care for her at all?" Miriam asked, her tone relentless.
"I'm sorry, but I would prefer it if you would not speak of me as if I were not here. Does what I think or feel matter nothing?" Alexis snapped out, her body suddenly tense against his own. Her fit of temper brought Lady Miriam's gaze her way and a slow, knowing smile curled the corner of the other woman's lips up.
"My my. The child has a temper." Her hand dropped to Phillip's knee and rested there. "Very well, then. Tell me what you think and feel about Clinton, girl."
"My Lady, I wish you hadn't done this," Clinton said before Alexis could open her mouth.
"I am merely concerned for you, my dear," Miriam replied gently. Her lavender gaze slid toward Alexis and the knowing smile grew, became something much softer and far more real. "I can see how deeply you already care for her. If she weds this Frenchman, you'll shut yourself off from the world. You'll wither away and die. That is not the life I would want for any of my family. If she makes you happy, Clinton, really and truly happy, then you must fight for that happiness."
"Is she right, Clinton? Do you hold feelings for me?" Alexis asked, voice soft and sure in the enclosed space of the carriage. He turned to face her, angling his body sideways on the bench as he struggled to find the right words. He didn't know if it was love, as his Lady had said. But there was something there that was deep and strong and very much like love. He just didn't know how to put it into words. But she expected him to answer her, so he opened his mouth and made to tell her what she wanted to hear. A hand lifted, her fingers pressing against his lips. "Why didn't you tell me before? That night, after the engagement party, when you came to me. Why didn't you tell me then?"
"You're to be married. I've seen enough of your heard to know that you would rather live a life without love than dishonor your family like that. Your family expects you to do them proud by marrying that man. I won't be the one to -- " He broke off and shook his head.
"And it doesn't matter to you that I dream of you?" Alexis asked softly. He turned to stare at her. There was an earnest look on her face, her hands clenched together tightly in her lap. "It doesn't matter to you that my thoughts, waking and sleeping, are consumed by you? It doesn't matter to you that I want..."
He stared when Alexis trailed off. Clinton waited patiently, hoping that she would finish her sentence. It was silent for several moments before he reached out and took hold of her hands. His gaze found hers, earnest and open. A small burst of hope fluttered in his chest. "What do you want, Alexis?"
~*~*~*~*~
Alexis stifled a yawn as she stood and watched the carriage rumble its way down the road. It was on its way back toward the castle where Clinton lived with Lord Phillip and Lady Miriam. They'd taken her with them to talk. And so that she could understand what kind of life Clinton lived. Because she'd told him what it was that she wanted, deep down in the very depths of her heart. A love like the one her mother and father shared, one that was deep and consuming. With a man who felt the same way she did. Lady Miriam had decreed that before Alexis could make a decision that would so directly affect the rest of her life, she had to first understand what it was she was considering for herself.
And so Clinton had shown her around the castle and she'd met the members of the coven. She'd been made to understand that blood was as important to them as secrecy. Alexis had seen things she'd never dreamed of seeing before. There had been one entire room dedicated to books, more books than she'd ever seen in her life. All the books she could ever want to read. After that had come the weapons room. She'd thought she'd died and gone to heaven upon seeing it.
They'd spent time with the humans who lived within the castle. Alexis knew that they provided the blood Clinton and the other vampires needed. She'd even had chance to watch a feeding. The human the vampire had fed from hadn't seemed as if the feeding had harmed them in any way. In fact, if what she saw was anything to go by, the man had more than enjoyed his time with the vampire. When it was all done and they'd moved on to some place that was much more private.
When they'd been alone, Clinton had taken the time to explain everything to her. He'd allowed her to ask him questions about his life before he'd become a vampire and the way he lived it after. He'd answered her as honestly as he could, as much as he could. He'd shown her his private chambers, rooms that were terribly lush and rich. Much finer than anything she'd ever seen before. The entire time they'd explored the castle, he'd been very much the gentleman and had showed her the ultimate respect. If he'd known that she'd been thinking very wanton things about him, he hadn't let on.
When the tour had finished and she'd seen everything there was to see, he'd shown her to a sprawling garden set up behind the castle. It had been filled with tall trees sporting spreading branches heavy with glossy leaves. A plush carpeting of grass cushioned her feet, ran in every direction. Bushes and other green plants fought for supremacy with flowers of all colors and in full bloom under the sparkling night sky. He'd led her along a cobbled path until they'd reached the edge of a glassy pond. They'd taken a seat on the stone bench there and, when he'd turned to her, she'd allowed him to pull her into his embrace.
After minutes of kissing that had left her breathless and hungry for more, he'd reached up to stroke her cheek. To run his fingers over the silken cap of her hair.
"You're beautiful," Clinton told her, voice breathless and soft. Alexis smiled at him. Perhaps he saw the disbelief on her face. Perhaps he read it from her mind. She didn't know. "You are, Alexis. You're beautiful. I want nothing more than to look upon your beauty for the rest of my days."
A blush stained her cheeks, leaving her face hot in the cool night air. "You would tire of me, Clinton. I am not some demure, proper lady. I am vocal and opinionated. I enjoy reading and thinking for myself. Doing for myself. I enjoy the thrill of a fight, the feel of my blood pumping in my veins. I enjoy the feel of a sword in my hand. I am not the proper woman for any man."
"You are the perfect woman for me, Alexis. Those are the things I like most about you. If I wanted a woman who was meek and demure and the perfect lady, I would never have taken note of you to begin with." He leaned in and pressed a tender kiss to her lips. "Stay with me, Alexis. Stay here."
"Clinton. What about the wedding?"
"You don't want him. I know this, Alexis. You don't love him. You love me. I can feel it. We can come up with a way to make it work. I promise. Just give me an opportunity," he pleaded.
"You can't know how much I want to just say yes. How much I want to just throw everything away and stay here. But I can't, Clinton. Because that isn't who I am." Alexis looked down at their hands, fingers entwined together. For the first time that she could remember, someone besides her had paler than death hands. "I can't just run away with you and -- "
"It wouldn't be running away. I wouldn't be so callous as to expect you to shirk your responsibilities. I promise we would find a way to save your family's reputation."
"I... I need to think on it, Clinton. Please. Allow me that much." She gave him wide, genuine eyes. "A day."
"I can give you a day," he replied, granting her with a smile that warmed her right down to her toes. Rising to his feet, he took her hand and pulled her up to stand beside him. The kiss he pressed to her lips was heady enough to leave her dizzy with desire. "Allow me to get you home. We'll meet again tomorrow night so that you may give me your decision."
"On the road, where we first met," she nodded. "Tomorrow night, when its full dark. Two hours before midnight."
"I'll be there," he promised.
Alexis swirled the cloak around her shoulders and drew the hood up to cover her face. It was close to dawn and she needed to hurry home. If she wasn't in her bed before the maid came in, there would be hell to pay. She'd never be able to explain to her mother about her nocturnal trips out onto the road or the weapons she carried on her when she did. If she was caught. her mother would keep her under lock and key until she was delivered to the church for her wedding.
She sighed. The wedding. The more she thought on it, the more she realized she already knew the answer to Clinton's question. She couldn't see herself as the wife of a French nobleman. It didn't matter how handsome he was or how rich he was. She couldn't see herself living in some grand house with several children at her feet and another in her belly. She understood that choosing a life with Clinton would mean she'd never have children. She was surprisingly okay with that. She just couldn't figure out how it could be done and her family not ruined in the process.
Perhaps Clinton would come up with a solution for that.
"Well, well. Lookie what we have here."
The voice, masculine and filled with a sneer, brought her out of her thoughts. Her head snapped up to find that she was surrounded by several unwashed men. Each of them held a sword or pistol in his hand. She reached for her sword, cursing herself for not reloading her pistols before being dropped off. The tip of a sword flicked fast and quick over her cheek, leaving behind the sting of split flesh. She felt blood flow and heat rushed to the wound. "I'd suggest you not do that again," she commented softly.
"Then I'd suggest you keep your hands where I can see 'em," the man insisted. Alexis brought her hand back up, her sword still caught in her sheath. The man nodded his head. "Tha's a good lad. So you're the guardian of the road I been hearing all about lately."
"I have made it my duty to see that men like you find the justice they deserve," she admitted.
"Way I heard it, I've lost some mates to you. I think you and I need to have a long talk about that."
"I'd rather run you through with my sword. But then it wouldn't be a very fair fight, would it?"
"Big words for a man who's about to die," the man replied. His sword flicked up and the hood of her cloak drifted away from her face. She saw it the exact moment the men realized that they were facing down a woman. The sneer turned to a leer. "Well, now. Isn't this a pretty turn of events."
Alexis dipped a bow but kept her head up so that she could watch her adversaries. The sword came free as she rose up and she held it before her with practiced ease. "There now. Mine is bigger than yours," she mocked softly. A faint snort went around the group of men. "Come along then, lads. There's plenty for everyone. I promise I won't disappoint you."
The men swarmed toward her, swords out and blood in their eyes. Alexis laughed at them and threw herself into the fight. Oh, yes. This was the kind of thing she lived for. And Clinton would never take this away from her. Ever. Remy LeBeau would never let her leave his house if he knew of her peculiar brand of entertainment.
One by one, the men fell to her sword until only the leader was left standing. He was injured and bleeding. She was not. She was confident that she would have him down, bleeding out on the road, with her next stroke.
It almost worked out that way. But she hadn't counted on the long, sharp dagger he'd had hidden in his free hand. And she hadn't counted on his burying it in her belly when she ran him through. She pulled herself free of the blade, twisted her sword and gutted him. Stared at the blood leaking from her belly. The man died with laughter and blood bubbling up out of his mouth.
Alexis found herself crashing into the bushes along the edge of the road. The last thought she had was that she'd not be given a chance to give Clinton his answer. And then the world was gone.
~*~
Chapter Four: Questions
Fandom: something like the Marvel Universe, leaning mostly toward the Movie!Avengers branch. but with vampires. and werewolves. in a historical setting.
Rating: 18 and up
Warnings: lots of sex and violence, some language, anything else i can toss in. blood play/drinking. M/M, M/F, M/F, F/F, and any other combination that strikes my fancy
Disclaimer: the recognizable characters and places contained herein are the property of Marvel and whoever the hell else owns them.. 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,
dazzledfirestar, mistress_o_muse, ginevrasm, rylan_m, and ladydeathfaerie. the concept and title of The Mary Sue Virus are used with permission from Dazzledfirestar.Blood Lines - The Index
~*~
"Clinton," Miriam called after the young man. He turned to look at her, face devoid of any emotion at all. She hid her frown and motioned at him with one hand. "Come here, my sweet. I would like to speak with you."
His expression didn't change, betrayed nothing of what he was thinking, but she could sense the inner turmoil bubbling under the thin veneer of calm. He nodded curtly and strode back to where she waited for him, every step full of purpose. She watched him with an intense, searching gaze. Just as she'd been doing for the past several nights.
There had been something different about him since he'd heard of the mortal girl's impending marriage, something off and very unlike him. It worried Miriam to see him so unsettled because one of Clinton's greatest skills was his unflappable calm in the face of any dangerous or important situation. That wasn't to say that he didn't have his moments of anger and rage, or sullenness, or exuberant joy. They all did. Even though they'd found that something in the change altered some traits to make their long lives bearable, there were certain things that the change never touched. Vampires still felt human emotions and thought human thoughts. The need for blood didn't change that. Still, she'd known Clinton all of his undead life and to see him so... discombobulated by a female was a strange thing.
He would never speak of it, but Miriam knew that he had feelings for the girl. She'd known that the first night he'd told them of the mortal. There had been few enough women in Clinton's life who were not vampire and who understood what he was. In fact, so far, the number of women who had accepted him as one of the undead was none. After the last failed attempt at a relationship, he'd done his best to keep his interest from wandering beyond the field of acceptable liaisons. She'd only seen him with other vampires for a very long time now. Something about this Alexis Quinn was special.
Her impending nuptials were effectively messing with Clinton's head.
"My Lady?" Clinton asked when he came to a halt before her.
"Walk with me in the gardens, Clinton. Converse with me," she requested, adding a touch of purr to her voice so that he knew she wished for his companionship. He gave a curt incline of his head, then offered her his arm. She gave him a coy smile, pleased that he had been taught manners. She'd heard whispers that chivalry was dying, but such a thing would never happen with men like Clinton and Phillip still living.
They were silent as they made their way along the stone corridor, Clinton's mind strangely still and silent against her own. Miriam knew he was trying to hold his thoughts, trying to hide them from her because he obviously didn't want her to know what kinds of things were going through his head. She allowed him his privacy for the moment, simply enjoying his presence at her side. She'd always enjoyed Clinton's presence in her life. He was beautiful in body and mind. Years as a soldier had honed his muscles into sculptured perfection. Added to the magnificence of his face, he was the picture of virile male that few women could deny. Under all of that masculine glory was a sharp, keen mind that hungered for every scrap of knowledge it could find. The only man she'd ever met that attracted her even more than Clinton was Phillip.
There was a slight sliver of the moon hanging lonely in the night sky. Millions of stars twinkled around it, tiny jewels embedded in the midnight tapestry hung over the world. Several other members of the coven were making use of the lair's gardens, and every one of them gave a bow or curtsey as she and Clinton passed.
The path under their feet was made up of ancient flagstones, laid out in intricate designs that led one deeper and deeper into the gardens. Rows of bushes and trees created walls between the different branches of the path. There were stone and iron benches to rest upon and various night blooming flowers that filled the air with their fragrant scents. They made their way toward the center of the garden, where a small pond was surrounded by Evening Primrose, Moon flowers, and Four O'Clocks. As soon as the few members of the coven who were lingering at the water's edge saw Miriam and Clinton approach, they bowed their heads in respect and withdrew, leaving the area empty save for their Lady and the Captain of her guard.
Clinton seated her on the bench first, then waited for her to motion him to join her. When he settled beside her, she turned to look at him and reached out to take hold of one of his hands with her own. She gave him a searching gaze, her free hand reaching up to cup his cheek gently. "My Lady?" he asked, his real question hidden in those two words.
"I worry about you, Clinton."
"There is nothing wrong, my Lady. You worry over naught," he said firmly.
"You wouldn't lie to me, would you, Clinton?" she asked softly. She saw the hesitation on his face as he considered how to answer her. Miriam gave him a gentle smile. "I know you pine for her, Clinton. I know that there is something special about this girl. What I don't know is why you have done nothing about it yet."
"She's to be married at the end of this week," he replied quietly, his gaze slipping away. He kept his thoughts from her but, based on what she felt from him, his last encounter with the girl had been something special and erotic. "There is nothing to do about it."
"Ah, yes. A marriage. Because these things are always decided by two young people in love with themselves, each other, and the world." The meaning of her words didn't escape him, and Clinton turned a sheepish look her way. "There is no need to apologize, my sweet. Just answer me a few questions."
"If I can," he promised.
Miriam watched him for a few seconds, taking note of the way his eyes had darkened just from speaking about the girl. Oh, yes. There was emotion there. Deep emotion, though she doubted he knew just how deep it went at the moment. She gave him a smile and let her fingers stroke along his cheek. "Does she love this man she is betrothed to? Does she wish this marriage?"
"She barely knows him, my Lady," he replied evenly. She smiled before he could say anything else because, really, wasn't that the way of the world? "I've been inside her mind. She finds him handsome enough to look upon, but she doesn't know him. And she feels nothing for him that she believes would be helpful inside of a marriage."
"So she does not wish to marry him?" Miriam asked carefully.
"I saw her that night, during the party. She didn't want to be anywhere near him. Her thoughts turned..." his voice trailed off and he glanced away.
Miriam smiled again, her hand reaching for his chin. A little pressure saw him turning his face back toward her. "Her thoughts turned to you," she finished for him. Before he could deny her words or make some excuse, she laid her fingertips against his mouth. "You have no need to say such things, Clinton. I can see it in your eyes. The girl is smitten with you, isn't she? On the day she formally announced her intentions to the world, in the midst of family and friends, her thoughts kept straying toward you."
"Aye," he replied, though she hadn't asked him any questions.
"And you would let her go through with a marriage she doesn't want because this is what you believe should happen? Do you think she will be happy in her marriage to this man? Will she be happy to give up the road and the fights? Do you think she will welcome a pregnancy that will leave her rounded and uncomfortable?" He answered none of her questions, his jaw tightening with each one until she felt he would shatter his teeth. But she knew how he wanted to answer those questions. She could feel the denial vibrating along his skin. They both knew that this girl was different from others of her kind. Miriam pursed her lips and tried another line of thought. "Do you think she will be happy in this man's bed?"
"No," he denied vehemently. She bit back the smile that threatened to spread across her face and instead leveled a look on him.
"And you are sure of this how?" Clinton stared at her and refused to say anything. His jaw tightened until already pale skin went white with strain. Miriam sighed and squeezed his hand. "Clinton, answer me. How do you know she would not be happy in his bed? Do not force me to seek out the answers for myself."
"Because she was more than eager to share her bed with me," he replied, heat edging every word so that it felt like she was being flayed with fire. Miriam stared at him in surprise, wondering if he'd lost his mind. She might have asked him that question, too, but he shook his head and got up so that he could stalk to the edge of the pond. "I didn't take her virginity, my Lady. She made it clear that it needed to remain in place. But she let me touch her and kiss her and explore every last inch of her. She let me taste her. And she enjoyed every single moment of it."
"And yet, after all of that, you would let her marry a man she has no interest in when its clear she wishes to be with you?" Miriam questioned.
"I should allow myself to hope for that after all that has come before? Should I let her crush my heart in my chest? She won't accept who and what I am." He sounded so sure of that. His pain lanced through her, making her heart ache for him.
"How do you know she won't accept you? Have you shown her what you are?"
"You know that I have not," he whispered hoarsely.
"Then how can you know, Clinton? You've already discovered that she is nothing like other women. Why can she not be different in this, as well? Why can she not accept you for what you are?" Miriam asked him.
"Because we've seen how mortal women react when they find out exactly what I am!" he snarled, not bothering to turn and look at her. There was anguish in his voice, along with a healthy dose of self-loathing. If there was one thing Clinton has always wanted, it was the ability to call someone his own. He'd tried to do just that over the long years of his unnatural life, but each attempt had resulted in a renewed determination to never seek out the love of another woman again.
Miriam watched him silently for several long moments. She hated seeing him like this, hated that he felt so little of himself that he would risk real happiness - and she could see that Alexis Quinn would bring him all the happiness he wanted and deserved - because he didn't dare trust that there was a mortal out there who could accept him as he was. His lack of faith hurt her heart.
In some ways, he was very much like her child. Oh, he'd come to them as a full grown adult. But she'd watched him grow after he'd been changed and she'd personally overseen much of his education from the moment she'd noticed he hungered for knowledge. So it made watching him rage against the injustice of being slightly different from everyone else that much more difficult to bear. Because the inclination to solve his problems for him was always there, lingering under the surface. And the sad truth was, there was no telling how this situation would play out because she knew very little about the girl who had stolen his heart.
If she thought it would help, she'd go to Miss Alexis Quinn and explain it all to her. She'd tell the girl all about Clinton and their way of life. She'd offer the girl a place within their coven, as a member of their odd little family. She'd let the child know that, despite having to drink blood to exist and not being able to give her children, Clinton was just like any mortal man she'd ever meet. Yes, if she thought it would work, she'd pay a visit to the girl tonight and...
Miriam's thoughts trailed off and she blinked. Was that the answer? Was it so simple as all that? Could she do it?
Masking her thoughts, she rose from her seat on the stone bench and slowly approached him. He tensed when her hand touched his arm, but he didn't break away from her. She took it as a win. "There will come a day when you will find the woman for you, Clinton. When that day comes, none of these petty things will matter. You'll see, my sweet."
He said nothing in response, but she wasn't expecting him to. Pulling away from him, Miriam picked her way back toward the bench, passed it by and made for the path. She did a quick search to find out where Phillip was and set off to meet up with him.
There were plans to be made.
~*~
Phillip was in his private study, bent over some correspondence that required timely answers. She smiled when he lifted his head to stare at her. A faint smile pulled at the corners of his mouth and he returned his quill to its stand so that he could give his full attention to his wife. "You're thinking of doing something devious, beloved. I can see it in your eyes."
"There never was any use hiding things from you, husband," she returned with a mock pout. Phillip did smile at that. He also turned in his seat so that he was fully facing her. She crossed to where he sat and leaned up against his desk, one hand reaching down absently to run through his hair. There were few things she liked better than to simply touch Phillip.
"What is it that you want to do this time, wife?" he asked gently, one hand reaching up to rest on her hip.
"I wish to meet Clinton's young mortal woman," she replied without even attempting to distract him with sweet words or the press of flesh. Phillip knew all of her tricks by now so it seemed pointless to try and sway him with a cheap tactic. The truth in this case would be far better. Her words saw his gaze turning serious.
"Do you think such a move wise?" Phillip questioned.
"Likely not, husband. But she has stolen Clinton's heart. And he refuses to do anything about it."
Her husband studied her, his blue eyes kind and gentle as he did so. She no doubt knew what he was thinking, but she would not be swayed in this matter. Clinton knew that he was always welcome in their bed with them together or either one of them alone, but he would never fully be happy because he wanted someone of his own. More than that, he needed and deserved someone he could spend a cold night with. Just the two of them. Miriam was determined to give him that, no matter what it took. "Perhaps you should leave this to him?" Phillip suggested lightly.
"If I don't take action, Clinton will let it go. The wench will marry another and grow old before her time, burdened with a man she cares nothing for and children she never asked for."
"How do you know she doesn't want children, Miriam?"
"She spends her nights fighting off ruffians along side the roads. Do such actions belong to a woman who wants to be saddled with a husband and children?"
Phillip sighed and reached up to cup her face. "Miriam, you should allow Clinton to deal with this matter as he chooses. Interfering will only create more problems than solutions."
"Do not attempt to placate me, Phillip. It is because of me that he finds himself in the position of being unable to find a woman to love. He cares for this girl already. Letting her go off and marry some stupid bastard who doesn't see a prize when he's looking at one is the worst thing we could allow to happen." She gave him her stubborn look. "Please, Phillip. This is important to me. I wish to see this girl for myself. I wish to determine if she deserves such devotion from him. And I wish to discover whether or not she is the woman for him."
"You plan on telling her his secret to see how she reacts," Phil commented flatly.
"He's as good as my child, Phillip. I can act the role of the mother when it comes to his happiness. And I will. Gladly. He's pining for her. If she marries this other man, we'll lose him," she insisted, voice growing strident with each new word. Stopping, she took a deep breath to calm herself and shook her head. "I will not lose him, Phillip. You saw how hard he took it when the last one turned away from him. After Karla shunned him, it took nearly a century to draw him out of himself again. If he loses this girl, I fear what will become of him."
"Miriam, my beautiful wife, I know you feel responsible for Clinton. I dislike that he seems... " Phillip trailed off, obviously looking for a word he believed described the other man perfectly. "I dislike that he so fully dedicates himself to us as much as you do. But do you think it wise to take the initiative with this? If this girl shuns him and he finds out that you're to blame for that, he'll never forgive you."
"I have faith that this girl is much more forward thinking than any of her predecessors. You're talking about a woman who spends her nights defending the innocent from ruffians and thugs." Miriam felt no remorse in reminding Phillip of that fact. It was partially what had drawn Clinton's attention to the girl in the first place.
"We cannot force the girl to accept Clinton. And giving him false hope would only be cruel. Let it be, my love. Let nature take its course in this matter," Phillip suggested quietly.
"She marries at the end of the week, Phillip. Shall I sit back and allow Clinton's one real chance at happiness to walk down the aisle to wed another man? How would you feel if such had happened with me?"
"It was different with us, Miriam, and well you know it. You cannot compare his life to ours."
"You would deny him his chance at happiness?" she questioned carefully. There were very few occasions when she'd ever gotten mad at Phillip. But if he denied her this opportunity, she was going to take great pleasure in being angered with him for a very long time.
"Why should we risk his heart again? If he's certain that this girl will not accept him, we would be remiss in trying to force her to do so." She could see that he was very much certain of this.
"Phillip, I have a feeling. Clinton didn't say as much, but I'm sure he's marked her. And I can feel the need for her pouring from him even though he tries to hide it. This girl is different. She's the one. But we'll never know if we don't go pay her a visit."
Phillip heaved another sigh and Miriam knew she'd won. "This is a horrible idea, beloved. What happens when it backfires?"
"It won't, my love. I'm sure of it."
He chuckled at that, drawing her closer to him. "And how are you going to convince Clinton to allow you to do this thing?" he asked her.
Miriam gave him a wicked smile before leaning down to press a kiss to his lips. "I don't plan on telling him I'm going," she replied.
Her words brought Phillip to his feet, his gaze turning serious in the blink of an eye. The weight of his hands on her shoulders was not a comfort. It was meant to convey his displeasure with her. "You will not go to meet this strange woman on your own, Miriam. You must take someone with you."
She gave him a cheeky grin and shrugged his hands off of her shoulders before stepping in closer to him so that she could slide her arms up around his neck. "I did say we, didn't I?" When he gave her a skeptical look, she only smiled wider and pressed closer. "There is no one in the lair stronger than you, my love. That means there is no one better suited to the task of watching over me."
He studied her face for a few long moments. The silence stretched between them as he simply looked down at her. Miriam smiled at him, waited patiently even though she knew that he wouldn't deny her this. He loved Clinton as if the man was a brother. He would do anything to see the other man happy. So she kept her thoughts to herself and waited for him to agree to her plan. He would go with her. And he would help her make Alexis Quinn see that there was nothing wrong with Clinton. Nothing at all.
"Very well, my pet. Go make yourself ready. I'll find some task to give to Clinton that will keep him busy whilst we make our escape. But you will promise me that you will leave this alone if things do not work out the way you think they will. We'll erase the girl's memory of our visit and leave it at that."
"Of course, my love," Miriam agreed with a graceful nod. Phillip pressed a hungry, brutal kiss to her lips. It was a promise that they were going to discuss her desire to interfere in Clinton's life at a later date. She smiled at him, letting him know she was looking forward to it. He drew away and headed for the door, pausing at the twin wooden panels to look back at her. Even from a distance, she could see that a fire was burning in his eyes. Phillip was as eager to go on this little trip as she was. Because he wanted to see Clinton just as happy as she did. He slipped out of the room and went off in search for Clinton.
Miriam smiled, whispered a prayer to whomever might be listening that this would go well, and drifted toward her chambers so that she could dress for the evening.
~*~*~*~*~
The loud clang of steel on steel echoed through the night. Alexis had been lying in wait for the next band of ruffians when a carriage being trailed by four mounted riders had come into view. Her lucky day. She'd already dealt with two of the fiends with pistol balls to some part of their bodies after calling out to the carriage inhabitants that they should stay inside their conveyance until it was safe to come out. They'd be going nowhere with a large tree felled across the road. She'd help the driver move it after she was done with the men responsible for its being there. She held a sword in one hand, a dagger in the other, and she was battling with the man she thought to be the leader of the group. He was a foul, dirty, unkempt man and he smelled. The way she saw it, she was doing the world a favor by ridding it of his presence.
Except he didn't seem to want to die. He parried each thrust, blocked every single strike. She was starting to think that perhaps she wouldn't be able to fend him off without serious injury.
His sword came down in an arc, the sharpened blade aimed for her skull. She twisted aside at the last possible moment and spun in toward him. The dagger in her hand sliced neatly through the flesh of the man's sword arm. The horses pulling the carriage whinnied nervously as the scent of blood, their hooves stamping sharply at the compacted dirt of the road. The man's sword slipped from his numb hand and hit the ground with a clang. Alexis gave a broad smile of triumph even before she buried the length of her blade in the man's chest.
"If you were to live through this night, I would tell you to remind your low class friends that this road belongs to me. But since you won't see the end of this fight, I'll just say my goodbyes now. Too bad you weren't much more of a fight," she whispered as she shoved him off the sword with one booted foot. The man grunted as he hit the ground, a gurgling sound rising up his throat. She might have taken a moment to gloat over puncturing a lung, but the fourth man chose that moment to stagger up from where she'd left him, letting go a low growl of rage as he charged in her direction.
"Bastard! I'll have yer guts for garters!" the man bellowed only seconds before his sword beat down against her own. The screech of metal against metal as he dragged his blade off hers made her ears ache and sheer force of will kept her from reaching up to cover her ears.
"You don't even know what that means, cad," she snapped and shoved into him. Her sudden move threw the man off balance and sent him staggering backward. Alexis pushed her advantage and followed him, her sword and dagger slicing through thin air with wicked intent. The man didn't falter, managing to keep himself just far enough out of reach of her blade to avoid being pierced while at the same time drawing her nearer and nearer the trees. She knew what would happen if he managed that and set about halting his steps.
She dropped the dagger, heard the soft clang as it hit the ground. Her opponent was smiling at her, as if he thought this meant she was his to take. A second later, she had the crossbow out, a bolt loaded and ready to be fired. The man stared and made to lunge toward her. Alexis aimed and released the trigger. The bolt flew true and drove itself through the man's forehead. He dropped without making a sound.
Sighing, she turned and set about retrieving her dropped weapons. The dagger was easiest to find because it was close to where she stood. But she had to recall where her pistols were, which meant searching for them in the dark. The creak of the carriage's springs reminded her that there were people waiting to be told they were safe. She turned to face the carriage and found that a couple had stepped down out of the conveyance. They were both staring at her.
"She's amazing, Phillip. Simply amazing. He's picked well." The woman said, looking up at the man standing beside her.
That man was watching her with sharp, intent eyes. There was a faint smile on his face that suggested he could be amused or possibly that he was contemplating what he might do with her. "She is quite proficient with her weapons. She would be an excellent match for him. Are you sure this is a wise course of action to take, my beloved?" The man asked the question without turning his attention away from Alexis. She had to wonder who the 'he' they were talking about actually was.
"Of course I am! Didn't you just see how perfect she is?" the woman responded, her voice silken and enchanting. Alexis thought that she could allow herself to become tangled up in that woman's voice, if she chose to do so. She shook her head and went in search of her pistols, edging carefully around the pair without taking her attention from them. She was surprised, then, that the woman moved closer and held out a hand and Alexis never really saw it happen. "Miss Quinn. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Miriam. And we have a mutual friend."
"I'm sorry?" she stopped and stared. This was a very strange conversation and she didn't know quite how to handle it. "I don't know who it is you think I know, but I--"
"Don't play coy with me, child. I know you are close to Clinton. I've come to discuss some things with you," the woman replied.
The mention of the man brought a rush of memories to the surface. Memories she had to force down lest they swamp her and drag her under their heady waves. She was still dreaming about that night after the engagement party, when Clinton had come to her rooms. The things he'd done to her... She struggled to clear her mind and give her attention back to the strange couple. The road wasn't the best place to lose her composure or her train of thought. She shot the strange woman a stern glare as she tried to seek out the pistols on the blackness.
"They're to your left. About six paces ahead," the woman told her confidently. Alexis shot the woman a look and didn't move an inch. The woman shook her head and sighed, then glanced to the man. "Phillip, be a darling and collect the girl's pistols. She doesn't trust us."
"Such a shocking development, Miriam. We're standing on a road notorious for its thieves and bandits, and the girl doesn't know us at all. Perhaps you should explain why we've sought her out while I retrieve her pistols. And her cloak." The man started walking toward the spot the woman had mentioned. "Is there anything else lost to the darkness that you need returned to you?" he asked Alexis pleasantly.
She did a mental run through of her weapons. She'd picked up her dagger. Her sword was still held bare in one hand. The crossbow hung from the back of her belt. No. All she needed was her pistols. She offered the man a timid smile and shook her head. "No. I think that would be everything."
"Very well," he nodded and disappeared into the shadows. Only seconds later, much too quickly for him to have found the weapons and her cloak and reached her side, he was standing beside her with the matched pistols and the black cloak. "Get on with it, Miriam. We haven't got all night. The girl is tired and would no doubt like to get some rest."
"You're being an old spoil-sport, Phillip." The woman, Miriam, was a timeless beauty with flowing red hair and the kind of clear, pale complexion that women would kill for. She smiled to find Alexis watching her and moved closer. "I've come to discuss Clinton with you, my dear. How do you feel about him?"
"I'm sorry? I don't think I understand," Alexis shook her head.
"Surely you can answer my question, my dear. What kind of feelings do you have for Clinton?" the woman asked her pointedly.
Alexis blinked and wondered why she was having this conversation with a stranger. More to the point, why would her feelings matter. She was getting married in two days. After that, it would be a moot point and there was nothing anyone could do to change the fact. Her feelings about Clinton didn't matter in the slightest.
"Ah, but I believe they do, child," the woman said, bringing Alexis' gaze her way. She hadn't said anything out loud. Everything had been in her head, nothing more than thoughts lost to the abyss of her mind. Was it possible that the woman had read her mind? Such things weren't possible. There was no way this woman could know the things that went through her head about Clinton.
The woman smiled and sent a triumphant glance toward the man with her. "Oh, child. You don't understand just how important your feelings are. You must tell me now. Aloud, so that we can both bear witness to them."
"I don't understand why you're here. I'm to marry Monsieur Remy LeBeau in two day's time. Whatever I might feel for Clinton is irrelevant in the face of my impending wedding." Alexis tried to keep the bitterness out of her tone. The woman gave her a look that said she understood, one hand reaching out to cup her chin.
"Clinton is very dear to me, Alexis. Very dear. His happiness is terribly important to me and these past few days have proven to me that his happiness is tied to you. If you wed your young mortal, I fear that Clinton will never recover from it."
"I... don't understand," Alexis replied. None of the woman's words had made sense. And Alexis just couldn't find any kind of coherent meaning to them.
The woman sighed and shook her head. "So smart and yet so naïve to the ways of the world. No, don't get upset at me, my dear. I'm simply stating a fact. What I'm trying to tell you, girl, is that Clinton is deeply in love with you. He might not know it yet, but he is. He's utterly beside himself at the idea that you will soon marry. He doesn't want it to happen."
"If he doesn't want it to happen, why isn't he telling me these things himself? Why are you here?" she asked, shifting position so that she could keep both the man and the woman in view.
"Clinton would never condone our coming to you," the man told her. There was a hint of reproach in his voice, as if he thought that she should know such a thing. It made her feel incredibly like a child again and she had to fight not to duck her head and hide. "But my beloved wife does make an excellent point. If you are to marry this man, Clinton will never be the same again. He's family to my wife and I. We want to see him happy. If you feel nothing for him, tell us and we'll see to it that he never seeks you out again. But if your have even the smallest affection for him, you have a hard choice ahead of you."
"I don't think you quite understand my situation. I'm betrothed. My parents have arranged the marriage. The wedding is set. My gown has been crafted and awaits the day. The church is booked. The invitations have been sent. Everything has been made ready," Alexis explained.
"But what about your heart, my dear?" Miriam asked softly. Gently, even. "What is it you want out of life? A marriage to a man who will saddle you with children you never desired? A life spent tied to a house. Never another chance to enjoy the thrill of a good sword fight? Never the opportunity to do this again? Is that what you want?"
"Breaking my marriage contract will ruin my family. I can't do that to them," Alexis responded curtly, even though that was exactly what she wanted to do. "And if Clinton has such feelings for me, why isn't he here to tell me about them himself? Why have you come in his stead?"
"Because Clinton is sure that you will not return his affections once you learn what he is," Miriam replied steadily. Alexis blinked at that. What was that supposed to mean? She let her gaze slide from the woman to the man, trying to discern what it was they were talking about. There was something eerie about them, about the way their eyes seemed to stare right at her. Right through her. How they seemed to simply stand there and not move. How they didn't appear to even breathe. There was something odd about both of them.
She would have stood there and considered their state of strangeness at length had it not been for a low sound of what must have been pain and anger mixed in equal parts. She spun, hand already bringing her sword up, to find that the first man she'd fought was on his feet again, lurching toward them with his sword clasped loosely in the hand on his uninjured arm. He held it awkwardly, the tip pointed toward Alexis. The man's face was white, his other arm soaked in blood. The same could be said for his chest. She had to wonder what the hell was going on because she was pretty sure she'd delivered a killing blow. She had to have missed. Somehow.
"Die, you bitch!" the man snarled, spitting blood at her with his words. She made to throw herself between the bloodied, not-quite-corpse and the couple who had been inside the carriage, stepping around the husband without a word. Only he wasn't there.
It was like she blinked. One second, he was standing near her side. The next instant, he was several feet away. One hand had hold of the ruffian's throat. The man's feet dangled a handful of inches off the ground. And the man holding the thug didn't even look strained. Alexis' eyes went wide with disbelief. Mother of God, what the hell was going on?
"Clinton didn't want to tell you about this," Miriam said from beside her, one hand motioning to the frozen tableau before them.
"What the bloody hell is this?" she demanded, not sure if she should take her eyes off the man to watch the woman or keep them where they were at. She sure as hell wasn't going to worry about her choice of very unladylike words.
"We're vampires, child," the man told her. Then he moved so fast, all she saw was a big blur. There was the sickening sound of bones breaking, then the thug was laying dead at her feet. His head had been twisted around on his neck. The eyes that looked out of his face were glassy and empty with death. When she tore her gaze away from the corpse, it was to find that the woman watched her with a broad smile.
A smile that revealed long, extended canines.
She might have started gibbering out of madness or fear just then. The very idea was far too appealing to her confused brain. But the strange ones' attention turned to the road behind them and a sense of peace seemed to wash over her. Relax, little girl. I'm coming.
~*~*~*~*~
The ground flew beneath his feet as he sped after his Lord and Lady. Damn them for their desire to leave the lair without protection. If he were stronger, he'd challenge Lord Phillip to a private fight just for the opportunity to pound some sense into the man. Didn't they know that leaving the castle without a proper contingent of guards was important to everyone's survival? Not just theirs, though Clinton knew that Lord Phillip and Lady Miriam were deadly in a battle. But even the best warrior could be could be overwhelmed and overthrown. He should have known that something was amiss when Lord Phillip had asked him to personally train a few of the newer recruits to the Elite Guard.
It had taken Clinton much longer than he'd liked to figure out that there'd been something going on. By the time he'd realized that he couldn't feel either of their presences within the castle, they'd been gone for nearly half the hour. Plenty of time for them to have gotten into all manner of trouble. He'd promised the head of the stables that he would personally deal with him just before tearing off after them.
It was the scent of the horses that had given him a direction to follow. It had surprised him to find that his Lord and Lady were on their way toward town. An ominous feeling had started low in his belly, had slowly worked its way up to cloud his brain until he'd put on extra speed in the hopes that he arrived at whatever location he was heading for before whatever foul event could occur.
He hadn't meant to fall into Alexis' thoughts. That had happened entirely by accident. Of course he'd marked her with the intent of monitoring her, of making sure that she was always safe. Always happy. Always there. Even if he couldn't have her, he would do whatever he could to protect her. And so it was that he'd sort of inadvertently slid into her mind while she'd been in the middle of a fight. That had left his loyalties torn. His mind and his sense of duty said he needed to protect his Lord and Lady. But his heart and the emotional pull he had for Alexis said he needed to protect her.
His mind was filled with a flurry of motion, of blurring swords and swinging arms. She was in the midst of a fight again and all he could think of was getting there in time to ensure she didn't go down. The fight ended, leaving her calm and peaceful. But only for a few moments. Soon enough, her heart was again pumping with the thrill of the fight, And then it was pumping in fear. She thought she was going to die.
He didn't think. He just did. His mind reached out to hers and took away the fear, burying it under layers of calm and peace. He sent her a message: Relax, little girl. I'm coming. And he closed the distance. Prepared himself to rip whatever threat had frightened her to pieces.
Only to come to a confusing halt when he found that Alexis standing beside the roadside, staring about her in confusion, caught in the halo of light from lanterns hung off a grand carriage that spoke of wealth. A carriage that should have been, at that very moment, parked in the coven's carriage house. Lord Phillip surveyed the scene around him with a bland face that hid his keen mind while Lady Miriam stood near enough to Alexis that she could actually sink fang into the woman's neck and Clinton would be helpless to stop her. That very idea sent icy fear cascading down his spine.
"Ah. Clinton. So glad you could join us, my sweet," Lady Miriam purred in delight. Her words seemed to break the spell that Alexis had been under because her body physically jolted. The woman turned her back to the emptiness of the forest behind her and pointed her sword at them. Something inside him withered and died just a little when the tip of her blade swung slowly toward him. "We were just having a little chat with your mortal, Clinton. I see why you like her. She's unlike any woman I've ever met before."
"You... You're one of them?" Alexis asked, voice a strained whisper. The question was for him, even though she never took her eyes off of Lord Phillip and Lady Miriam.
"Alexis, allow me to explain," he began. His words saw her turning toward him. The sword wavered, dipped a little. She seemed to forget anyone else was there and focused all of her attention on him. Had she been in real danger, it would have been a fatal mistake.
"What are you people?" The question didn't surprise him. But the lack of fear in it did.
"We told you, child. We're vampires." This from Lord Phillip, who sounded more bored than anything. It was a lie, though. Clinton knew him well enough to know that he was assessing the situation with intense thoroughness.
Alexis said nothing for several long moments. Clinton waited, his heart frozen in his chest. No one made a move toward Alexis, but she didn't lower her sword. "There are myths and legends. I've read about them in the few books on the occult that I've been able to find. But I never expected to meet one in person. I didn't think such creatures existed."
"There is some basis of truth for all myths and legends, child," Phillip told her softly.
"Is it true that you drink the blood of the living to survive? Does it have to be the blood of a virgin?"
The question saw Lady Miriam throwing her head back to offer the night a low, sultry laugh. Lord Phillip's lips twitched ever so slightly to show his amusement. Clinton, after long years of a life filled with death and blood and debauchery, felt himself blushing at the implications. Just a bit. "No, child. That is pure fabrication. While we do need blood to survive, we can take it from nearly any source."
A look passed her face as she processed that response. After a few moments, her gaze slid around between the three of them. "You're not going to drink my blood, are you?" Then a frown passed over her face and she turned to look at him. "You did drink my blood, didn't you? The other night. When you had your head between my thighs."
Clinton had the grace to look sheepish about that. "I took very little, Alexis. Just to create a strong bond between you and I. So that I could ensure your new husband does nothing to harm you."
The sword dropped completely, tip pointed at the ground without thought. Had she been in any danger from them, she'd have just signed her life away. Not that there was any hope Alexis would be able to defend herself from three vampires with age, speed, and strength on their sides. But the part of him that had already given itself over to her took note of the danger she'd put herself in and worried what would happen if she had to fight for her life.
"Would such a bond work if I was in France?" she asked, dragging him away from images of bloody battle done against any foe to keep her safe. Clinton blinked at her, momentarily confused by the question. "After we're married, I will be going to France to live there with my husband. Will your bond work over such a distance?"
"It would. Not as intently as if you and your husband were to live in here in town. But it would work," he told her quietly. She nodded and gave that some thought.
"But you would be unable to come immediately to my aide because of the distance. And because you are nocturnal creatures." She seemed to be speaking more to herself than to him, so he let her continue. "What point would that bond serve if you were unable to use it the way you intended?"
It was a good question. One he didn't have an actual answer for. He hadn't really considered that her husband would move her away to France after their wedding. He'd thought she would want to stay near her family. He'd thought that, just maybe, she'd ignore duty and follow her heart. He'd apparently thought wrong.
"Perhaps we should continue this conversation in the relative safety of the carriage," Phillip suggested, eyes scanning the distant darkness. A lone howl echoed up out of the night, reminding Clinton of the werewolves and their unforgiving nature.
"A wise decision, my Lord," Clinton nodded. "We'll escort you home, Alexis."
"I can take myself home, thank you very much," she retorted, her voice tart with something he couldn't name. It was strange. The whole night so far had been strange. He should have known that Lady Miriam would seek Alexis out. Because she couldn't really leave anything alone and he knew that she thought he needed to be happy. He'd honestly thought that Alexis would take issue with his not being completely alive. He'd thought that there would be all manner of problems, not the least of which being Alexis having a minor break down at idea that vampires existed.
He'd expected her to rant and rave upon hearing the news. He'd expected that she would promptly swoon and be a typical lady of the age. He hadn't expected her to accept the state of his being with such grace and aplomb. He hadn't expected her to act as if meeting a creature of myth and lore was an every day occurrence for her. He hadn't expected her to be okay with it. And he hadn't expected her to get upset when he offered to escort her home.
Alexis resheathed her sword and moved to collect the pistols and cape the man had dropped near her feet earlier. "Phillip, if you would be so kind," Lady Miriam directed as she reached out to take hold of Alexis' arm. "Come, child. Ride with us. There is still much we should discuss."
"I can bloody well take myself home. I don't need a ride. I'm quite capable of defending myself from any villain who crosses my path," Alexis replied, sounding sharp and brittle. Clinton tried to calm her through the bond, tried to remind her that he was there for her. But she ignored his actions and made to pull her arm from Lady Miriam's hold.
His Lady's indulgent smile slipped into something much less pleasant and the hand around Alexis' arm tightened down until the mortal gasped in pain. Her eyes went wide and she stared at Miriam in something akin to horror. And perhaps a little betrayal. "Girl, this night has been adventurous enough already. Please do not force me to force you to do something against your will. There really is much to discuss. If Clinton will not explain things to you, I will."
Alexis must have seen something in Lady Miriam's eyes that made her realize this wouldn't be over until she gave in and went along with it. She nodded her head. Once. Silently. Miriam released her hold on Alexis' arm and turned to look at him with a broad smile on her face. "Be a gentleman and collect the girl, will you? That's a good man, Clinton."
He could only nod his head absently, his thoughts whirling madly like a dervish, and offer Alexis a hand. Things were going so oddly this evening. So very strangely. He didn't know what to make of them. She stared at him for a moment or two, then smiled shyly and slid her hand into his. Clinton couldn't fathom that she wasn't afraid of him, but he took hold of her hand and escorted her to the carriage. Helped her up into it and settled on the bench next to her. Lord Phillip handed Lady Miriam in next, climbed into the carriage after her and took his seat on the bench beside his wife. She offered him an indulgent smile and leaned into him.
"Your pistols and cloak, my dear," Phillip said, offering weapons and the bundle of cloth to Alexis over the floor between the seats. She took them, setting them on her lap. After lifting a hand up to knock on the roof of the carriage, he drew Miriam closer to him and stared across at them. The carriage lurched into motion, jarring the passengers. Alexis was jostled into Clinton and he absently wrapped an arm around her to keep her from being thrown off the seat as the carriage swung about and started back toward the castle.
Phillip's sharp gaze slid over the both of them, watching them silently. Despite the carriage having righted itself, Alexis made no move to slip out from under his arm and Clinton had made no move to shift away from her. After several long seconds, Phillip turned to look at his wife. "It would seem, my dear, that your assessment of young Miss Quinn is quite correct."
"I told you she'd be different," Lady Miriam smiled. Her gaze sought out Clinton's. "She's perfect for you. Perhaps now, now that you know she isn't going to run away from you, you can tell her just how you feel."
Clinton sighed. So this was his Lady's game. His mind had been in turmoil from the moment he'd realized that his Lord and Lady had left the castle without a guard. That turmoil had grown to find that Alexis was in trouble. It had continued upon finding both parties together. He'd wondered what was going on, why his Lord and Lady were with Alexis. Now he knew. Lady Miriam had taken it upon herself to try and solve problems for him. And with that knowledge came full use of his mental faculties again. As much as he'd like to admit to Alexis that there was no one he'd rather spend the rest of his life with, the truth of the matter was it made no difference. "She's getting married soon, my Lady. It isn't my place to -- "
"Nonsense, Clinton. I've known you for more than four hundred years. I've watched you nearly destroy yourself because a woman could not accept you for what you were. You've found yourself the perfect woman. Don't let her slip away because of a minor technicality." Lady Miriam made a hand gesture that said everything and nothing at all.
"You would call marriage a minor technicality?" he questioned softly.
"It is if there is genuine affection and emotion between you and the girl. Do you love her? Do you care for her at all?" Miriam asked, her tone relentless.
"I'm sorry, but I would prefer it if you would not speak of me as if I were not here. Does what I think or feel matter nothing?" Alexis snapped out, her body suddenly tense against his own. Her fit of temper brought Lady Miriam's gaze her way and a slow, knowing smile curled the corner of the other woman's lips up.
"My my. The child has a temper." Her hand dropped to Phillip's knee and rested there. "Very well, then. Tell me what you think and feel about Clinton, girl."
"My Lady, I wish you hadn't done this," Clinton said before Alexis could open her mouth.
"I am merely concerned for you, my dear," Miriam replied gently. Her lavender gaze slid toward Alexis and the knowing smile grew, became something much softer and far more real. "I can see how deeply you already care for her. If she weds this Frenchman, you'll shut yourself off from the world. You'll wither away and die. That is not the life I would want for any of my family. If she makes you happy, Clinton, really and truly happy, then you must fight for that happiness."
"Is she right, Clinton? Do you hold feelings for me?" Alexis asked, voice soft and sure in the enclosed space of the carriage. He turned to face her, angling his body sideways on the bench as he struggled to find the right words. He didn't know if it was love, as his Lady had said. But there was something there that was deep and strong and very much like love. He just didn't know how to put it into words. But she expected him to answer her, so he opened his mouth and made to tell her what she wanted to hear. A hand lifted, her fingers pressing against his lips. "Why didn't you tell me before? That night, after the engagement party, when you came to me. Why didn't you tell me then?"
"You're to be married. I've seen enough of your heard to know that you would rather live a life without love than dishonor your family like that. Your family expects you to do them proud by marrying that man. I won't be the one to -- " He broke off and shook his head.
"And it doesn't matter to you that I dream of you?" Alexis asked softly. He turned to stare at her. There was an earnest look on her face, her hands clenched together tightly in her lap. "It doesn't matter to you that my thoughts, waking and sleeping, are consumed by you? It doesn't matter to you that I want..."
He stared when Alexis trailed off. Clinton waited patiently, hoping that she would finish her sentence. It was silent for several moments before he reached out and took hold of her hands. His gaze found hers, earnest and open. A small burst of hope fluttered in his chest. "What do you want, Alexis?"
~*~*~*~*~
Alexis stifled a yawn as she stood and watched the carriage rumble its way down the road. It was on its way back toward the castle where Clinton lived with Lord Phillip and Lady Miriam. They'd taken her with them to talk. And so that she could understand what kind of life Clinton lived. Because she'd told him what it was that she wanted, deep down in the very depths of her heart. A love like the one her mother and father shared, one that was deep and consuming. With a man who felt the same way she did. Lady Miriam had decreed that before Alexis could make a decision that would so directly affect the rest of her life, she had to first understand what it was she was considering for herself.
And so Clinton had shown her around the castle and she'd met the members of the coven. She'd been made to understand that blood was as important to them as secrecy. Alexis had seen things she'd never dreamed of seeing before. There had been one entire room dedicated to books, more books than she'd ever seen in her life. All the books she could ever want to read. After that had come the weapons room. She'd thought she'd died and gone to heaven upon seeing it.
They'd spent time with the humans who lived within the castle. Alexis knew that they provided the blood Clinton and the other vampires needed. She'd even had chance to watch a feeding. The human the vampire had fed from hadn't seemed as if the feeding had harmed them in any way. In fact, if what she saw was anything to go by, the man had more than enjoyed his time with the vampire. When it was all done and they'd moved on to some place that was much more private.
When they'd been alone, Clinton had taken the time to explain everything to her. He'd allowed her to ask him questions about his life before he'd become a vampire and the way he lived it after. He'd answered her as honestly as he could, as much as he could. He'd shown her his private chambers, rooms that were terribly lush and rich. Much finer than anything she'd ever seen before. The entire time they'd explored the castle, he'd been very much the gentleman and had showed her the ultimate respect. If he'd known that she'd been thinking very wanton things about him, he hadn't let on.
When the tour had finished and she'd seen everything there was to see, he'd shown her to a sprawling garden set up behind the castle. It had been filled with tall trees sporting spreading branches heavy with glossy leaves. A plush carpeting of grass cushioned her feet, ran in every direction. Bushes and other green plants fought for supremacy with flowers of all colors and in full bloom under the sparkling night sky. He'd led her along a cobbled path until they'd reached the edge of a glassy pond. They'd taken a seat on the stone bench there and, when he'd turned to her, she'd allowed him to pull her into his embrace.
After minutes of kissing that had left her breathless and hungry for more, he'd reached up to stroke her cheek. To run his fingers over the silken cap of her hair.
"You're beautiful," Clinton told her, voice breathless and soft. Alexis smiled at him. Perhaps he saw the disbelief on her face. Perhaps he read it from her mind. She didn't know. "You are, Alexis. You're beautiful. I want nothing more than to look upon your beauty for the rest of my days."
A blush stained her cheeks, leaving her face hot in the cool night air. "You would tire of me, Clinton. I am not some demure, proper lady. I am vocal and opinionated. I enjoy reading and thinking for myself. Doing for myself. I enjoy the thrill of a fight, the feel of my blood pumping in my veins. I enjoy the feel of a sword in my hand. I am not the proper woman for any man."
"You are the perfect woman for me, Alexis. Those are the things I like most about you. If I wanted a woman who was meek and demure and the perfect lady, I would never have taken note of you to begin with." He leaned in and pressed a tender kiss to her lips. "Stay with me, Alexis. Stay here."
"Clinton. What about the wedding?"
"You don't want him. I know this, Alexis. You don't love him. You love me. I can feel it. We can come up with a way to make it work. I promise. Just give me an opportunity," he pleaded.
"You can't know how much I want to just say yes. How much I want to just throw everything away and stay here. But I can't, Clinton. Because that isn't who I am." Alexis looked down at their hands, fingers entwined together. For the first time that she could remember, someone besides her had paler than death hands. "I can't just run away with you and -- "
"It wouldn't be running away. I wouldn't be so callous as to expect you to shirk your responsibilities. I promise we would find a way to save your family's reputation."
"I... I need to think on it, Clinton. Please. Allow me that much." She gave him wide, genuine eyes. "A day."
"I can give you a day," he replied, granting her with a smile that warmed her right down to her toes. Rising to his feet, he took her hand and pulled her up to stand beside him. The kiss he pressed to her lips was heady enough to leave her dizzy with desire. "Allow me to get you home. We'll meet again tomorrow night so that you may give me your decision."
"On the road, where we first met," she nodded. "Tomorrow night, when its full dark. Two hours before midnight."
"I'll be there," he promised.
Alexis swirled the cloak around her shoulders and drew the hood up to cover her face. It was close to dawn and she needed to hurry home. If she wasn't in her bed before the maid came in, there would be hell to pay. She'd never be able to explain to her mother about her nocturnal trips out onto the road or the weapons she carried on her when she did. If she was caught. her mother would keep her under lock and key until she was delivered to the church for her wedding.
She sighed. The wedding. The more she thought on it, the more she realized she already knew the answer to Clinton's question. She couldn't see herself as the wife of a French nobleman. It didn't matter how handsome he was or how rich he was. She couldn't see herself living in some grand house with several children at her feet and another in her belly. She understood that choosing a life with Clinton would mean she'd never have children. She was surprisingly okay with that. She just couldn't figure out how it could be done and her family not ruined in the process.
Perhaps Clinton would come up with a solution for that.
"Well, well. Lookie what we have here."
The voice, masculine and filled with a sneer, brought her out of her thoughts. Her head snapped up to find that she was surrounded by several unwashed men. Each of them held a sword or pistol in his hand. She reached for her sword, cursing herself for not reloading her pistols before being dropped off. The tip of a sword flicked fast and quick over her cheek, leaving behind the sting of split flesh. She felt blood flow and heat rushed to the wound. "I'd suggest you not do that again," she commented softly.
"Then I'd suggest you keep your hands where I can see 'em," the man insisted. Alexis brought her hand back up, her sword still caught in her sheath. The man nodded his head. "Tha's a good lad. So you're the guardian of the road I been hearing all about lately."
"I have made it my duty to see that men like you find the justice they deserve," she admitted.
"Way I heard it, I've lost some mates to you. I think you and I need to have a long talk about that."
"I'd rather run you through with my sword. But then it wouldn't be a very fair fight, would it?"
"Big words for a man who's about to die," the man replied. His sword flicked up and the hood of her cloak drifted away from her face. She saw it the exact moment the men realized that they were facing down a woman. The sneer turned to a leer. "Well, now. Isn't this a pretty turn of events."
Alexis dipped a bow but kept her head up so that she could watch her adversaries. The sword came free as she rose up and she held it before her with practiced ease. "There now. Mine is bigger than yours," she mocked softly. A faint snort went around the group of men. "Come along then, lads. There's plenty for everyone. I promise I won't disappoint you."
The men swarmed toward her, swords out and blood in their eyes. Alexis laughed at them and threw herself into the fight. Oh, yes. This was the kind of thing she lived for. And Clinton would never take this away from her. Ever. Remy LeBeau would never let her leave his house if he knew of her peculiar brand of entertainment.
One by one, the men fell to her sword until only the leader was left standing. He was injured and bleeding. She was not. She was confident that she would have him down, bleeding out on the road, with her next stroke.
It almost worked out that way. But she hadn't counted on the long, sharp dagger he'd had hidden in his free hand. And she hadn't counted on his burying it in her belly when she ran him through. She pulled herself free of the blade, twisted her sword and gutted him. Stared at the blood leaking from her belly. The man died with laughter and blood bubbling up out of his mouth.
Alexis found herself crashing into the bushes along the edge of the road. The last thought she had was that she'd not be given a chance to give Clinton his answer. And then the world was gone.
~*~
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(no subject)
Date: 2012-07-18 05:03 am (UTC)LOVE the intro to Phil and Miri...er, Phillip and Miriam. I was curious as to how you would handle that one and, as it turned out, you did so quite well, as per usual.
*sighs happily*
Damn I love vampires...and a bloody good love story! :-)
More soon?? :-)
(no subject)
Date: 2012-07-18 06:31 pm (UTC)it is fun, yet difficult, to remain true to character traits while at the same time trying to make them think the way we expect people of that time (and beyond) to think. i am of the opinion that Miri, at this point, is so far beyond societal conventions that she will do as she will and no one will tell her otherwise. and Phil will always follow her lead, even if he doesn't agree with it, because one never knows what will happen when one takes the least popular path.
we'll see what happens. not sure i'm braining yet. but something will happen. eventually. i hope.
thanks for reading, hon. glad you enjoyed it.
(no subject)
Date: 2012-07-18 06:41 am (UTC)Oh Miriam... the same nosy woman in any universe. lol I love how her attitude toward all this really calls back to the regular verse and her trying to figure Clint and Alex out.
I love love love Philip and how she's so absolutely no bullshit with him first. After that long of course he knows all her tricks. lol I can't wait to see what you do with the rest of their story!
Oh, Alex... she's so pragmatic! "Oh... vampires? Well... that's new!" lol And the fact that she knew enough about the legends to ask questions about it no doubt impressed everyone. Also, obviously we know who runs the house in this "family". ;)
That last fight was perfect too. It would have to come as a surprise and I can't wait to see how this all plays out!
Excellent work, hun! Bravo!
(no subject)
Date: 2012-07-18 06:39 pm (UTC)i tried really hard to make her the same character we've seen in the other fics that have been written in this universe. apparently, this version of Miriam is so old that she doesn't give a flying fuck about society anymore. probably better for everyone in the long run.
there is something so... right about how Miriam and Phillip (and Miri and Phil) fit together and work together. he puts up with a lot of her shit, but she knows that there is a line and i don't think she crosses it intentionally. also, i think he loves her so intensely and so deeply that he's willing to do anything she asks of him. within reason, of course. but there it is.
one of my Sues has to be pragmatic, damn it! none of the others really are. so yay, Alex! yeah. we know just who wears the trousers here.
yeah. it had to be a surprise. i couldn't see Alex defeating all of those men only to have her ass handed to her for no apparent or good reason.
thanks for reading, bb. glad you enjoyed it.
(no subject)
Date: 2012-07-19 02:42 am (UTC)Oh no! Cliffhanger! Argh!
Lovely work from start to finish. I have no idea where to start. I like this take on vampire society and the way all the members of this "family" connect with each other. I like Miriam's determination to see Clinton happy despite himself. And I am curious as all hell to find out just how all this gets resolved.
To sum it up -- More please? Soon?
(no subject)
Date: 2012-07-19 04:34 am (UTC)i've spent some time with Daz, going over how this society would work. they have to have a functioning society with lots of rules to maintain themselves. so there is a family-like connection because they spend a long, long time with one another.
Miriam is the mother hen, whether she means to be or not. and Clinton is special to her. so she'll do whatever it takes to see him happy.
there will be resolution. i promise. just not sure when.
thanks for reading, hon. i'm glad you enjoyed.