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marysuevirus2018-01-01 05:29 pm
ladydeathfaerie) wrote in marysuevirus2018-01-01 05:29 pm
The Mary Sue Virus: Beyond Death
Title: The Mary Sue Virus: Beyond Death
Chapter Forty Seven: Putting the Plan in Motion
Fandom: Anita Blake universe
Rating: 18 and up
Warnings: graphic sex and violence, language, anything else i can toss in.
Disclaimer: the recognizable characters and places contained herein are the property of LKH. i'm merely borrowing for the sake of entertainment. no money is being made from this venture. the Sues are the sole property of their originators, Ginevra, Dazzledfirestar, Nanaea, SilverFoxChan and ladydeathfaerie. the concept and title of The Mary Sue Virus are used with permission from Dazzledfirestar.
Author's Notes: the interior of this chapter was meant to happen in the last chapter before it decided it wanted to go in a different direction. so here's what should have happened. oh, look. more evil cliffies!
The Mary Sue Virus: Beyond Death - Index Link
Someone was going to die.
Jean Claude could see the dilemma before him and could have kicked himself for allowing something like this to happen. Whoever the vampire's master was, they had been watching and waiting. Planning. And his failure to anticipate this kind of action was going to result in someone's death. Because Jean Claude knew that the chance he'd be able to save both of them was slim. He was fast, but he was up against a master level vampire and what he suspected was an alpha werebear. His speed meant nothing here. No matter which of the women he decided to rescue, it was almost a certainty that the other would die.
He could feel Wicked and Truth, caught outside the invisible barrier that had prevented him from entering not that long ago. Both were agitated and angry. He couldn't say he blamed them one bit. And if he could find a way to remove the barrier that kept them out without alerting his companions to his actions, he would surely use it. But he didn't think that a silent invitation would work. He was surprised to find that it had worked when the person issuing it wasn't the inhabitant.
Tension stretched his shoulders tight as he faced off with the other vampire. Her smile grew wider the longer they stood there, her eyes darkening with intent as the minutes passed. It was only a matter of seconds now. And the moment she moved, he would have to make a decision. He'd be lying if he claimed he hadn't already made that decision. He only hoped that he'd be offered forgiveness for his sins when the time came.
It never came. Instead, Jean Claude felt a sense of wildness nearby. It was distant for a moment or two, then deepened as it grew nearer and nearer. In seconds, the wildness was practically right on top of him. Then the glass of the patio door exploded and a large, furred shape flew across the room. It was headed for the vampire, which left Jean Claude with the bear. He was in motion in the blink of an eye, every last bit of strength he had put into pulling the bear away from Aedan before it could do anymore harm to her.
The paw at her throat flexed just as he reached the bear, driving the claws deeper into her flesh. Aedan let out a sound of pain, her eyes fluttering as she tried to rouse herself. He took hold of the bear's front leg with both hands and jerked so hard and so suddenly that the crack of bone drowned out the sounds of the wolf's growls from the other side of the room. Aedan slid limply to the floor, breath rattling in her throat as she struggled to replace the air that she'd been deprived.
The bear roared and reared back, using the free paw to swat at Jean Claude. He caught that leg with both hands, too. Jerked it hard. Snapped it as easily as a small child snapped tiny twigs. The bear roared its pain again and tried lunging for Jean Claude, intent on catching his head between its opened jaws. His hands were there to catch the bear's upper and lower jaws. And then he pulled them apart.
The bear's head ripped in half, spraying blood and gore across the room, then the animal dropped to the floor. It twitched a time or two before it fell still. By then, Jean Claude had turned from it to assess the wolf's battle with the strange vampire. She was dead, head severed from her body. The ragged marks suggested the wolf had literally bitten her head off. A naked and bloodied man was leaning over Claudia, checking her over for serious injury. For a moment, Jean Claude was torn between ensuring that Aedan was okay and taking on the strange man to ensure that they were both safe. "Make sure she's okay. You're safe enough with me," the man said, never even looking up from Claudia.
Jean Claude took him at his word. He knelt beside Aedan, hands gentle as they checked every inch of her to determine how badly she'd been hurt. Her eyes fluttered again, blinked open, and found his face. She said nothing, simply wrapped her arms around him and hugged him close. If he noticed that she'd buried her face into his chest and was crying silent tears, he said nothing. He only held her and allowed her time to compose herself. He waited until she pulled away before he spoke. "How badly are you hurt?"
"I'm okay," she said, then promptly coughed. It made him wonder how hard the bear had pressed its paw against her throat.
"You are bleeding, ma poupette," he informed her. She caught the meaning behind his words right off the bat.
"There's nothing to worry about," she assured him. The look he sent her told her he wasn't so sure about that. She'd just had a lycanthrope's claws under her skin. "That isn't a real werebear." Aedan glanced at the remains and made a face. "Correction. That wasn't a real werebear."
He gave her that same look again. "Aedan."
"I know what you're thinking, Jean Claude. I promise I'm not being difficult. That wasn't a real werebear. It didn't feel right. The energy was wrong. Which was why I didn't realize it was here until it was on me." She rose to her feet, albeit a touch unsteadily, then crossed to the bear's corpse. A thick, viscous pool of blood had formed around the torn remains of the bear's head and she slid when she stepped into it, but she didn't fall. He watched as she squatted, careful to keep herself above the gore, and put her hands on the bear's chest. Her fingers moved through the shaggy fur for a few moments, then stopped. "Ha. There it is."
She did something that looked a lot like unbuttoning a button, and the bear's fur parted down the center. When it fell fully away, they were left staring at the headless body of a woman. She wore only panties and bra under the bear skin. Aedan's fingers caught something shiny near the woman's throat. She stared at it thoughtfully for several long seconds. "I've seen this before. One of my neighbors wears a pendant like this. Son of a bitch."
Jean Claude was sure he didn't like the implications of that statement.
"They must want you dead badly if they're sending a shapeshifting witch and a vampire after you," the stranger said. Jean Claude and Aedan both looked at him. He was standing now, one arm slung around Claudia to help support her weight, and he stared at the two of them. If he cared about his nudity, it didn't show on his face. "I'm Jake. Mischa sent me to watch over you."
"Of course he did." Aedan didn't sound pleased about that. She stood slowly and glanced around her bedroom. "I'm not getting any sleep tonight, am I? Just look at this mess."
"I think, given the attack, that it would be better if you were to stay with me," Jean Claude suggested. Aedan turned a look on him that he knew well. She was preparing her argument already. He lifted one hand to stave off the argument she planned on making. The other hand gestured to the decapitated vampire. "They managed to find a way into your home. When you were not here. And they might have killed you, had Claudia not been so close by. Please. For your safety and for my peace of mind."
She glanced at the corpses again, at the mess their deaths had left behind, and heaved a long suffering sigh. "Fine. I really don't want to deal with this mess anyway."
Jean Claude bit back a smile and went to the dresser to find her fresh clothes. "I will help you pack."
~*~*~*~*~
The house was very non-descript, quietly blending in with every other house in the neighborhood. It was a soft blue with white trim around the windows and doors. Black shutters stood silent sentry beside each window, one on either side, and kept watch on the comings and goings on the street. Even from this distance, it was easy to see that the shutters were for more than simple decoration. The yard was wild with weeds, but not overgrown. Someone tended the yard and kept it neat. But there were still more weeds than actual grass. A pair of young trees had been planted in the front yard. There was the same distance between the trunks as there was between the first tree and the driveway and the second tree and the edge of the yard. They were also equal distance from the house and the street. The whole thing was enclosed by a scrolling iron fence. All in all, it looked like the typical suburban house for a married couple, their two point five kids, and their dog named Fluffy.
But the moment Rhia neared the property line, she knew that image was a lie. She could feel power emanating from the house. From the actual ground. And wards ran along each one of the property's lines. Whoever lived in the house was very powerful. And very paranoid. They had to be in the right place.
"You're sure you want to go in there?" Nathaniel asked, eyes locked on the unassuming building. She thought he looked a touch uncomfortable. No doubt he could feel the immense amounts of magic surrounding the place.
"Yes. Christophe's friend has some information we're going to need if we're going to put a stop to the demon and its summoner." She took a step forward, only to have his hand settle on her arm and draw her to a halt. Rhia looked at him with a question in her eyes.
"There are some seriously weird vibes coming off that property," Nathaniel said quietly, confirming her suspicions. She could hear his discomfort in his voice.
Rhia turned a reassuring smile on him. "There are wards set up all over the place. And power like crazy. I don't know who Christophe's friend is or what he practices, but he's strong. I think it'll be okay. I can't imagine Christophe asking me over here if anything bad was going to happen. That isn't who he is. And I don't sense anything wrong with the magic."
"Rhia, you don't have to do this. Let Christophe and his friend figure out how to deal with the demon. I don't like this."
"I know how you feel. And I respect your feelings. I even understand them. But I have to help," she replied softly. "And I really do mean have to. There's a compulsion there. Like its an actual part of who I am as a person. I have to help."
Her words made him smile. Just a tiny bit. "I know. You wouldn't be the woman I love if you didn't want to help. But I've decided that I'm selfish and I don't want to see someone else I care about become some kind of sacrificial lamb on the altar of good and evil. Forgive me if I keep trying to talk you out of this insane idea."
She smiled at him, leaned in to press a kiss to his cheek. "I love that you love me. I love you, too. I honestly never thought I'd love someone like this again. Its scary and wonderful and amazing and it makes me want to run and hide. But it also gives me more reason to want to help. Because I've had dreams - nightmares, really - where you're broken and beaten and bloodied and... I can't let that come to pass. I watched someone I cared deeply about die once. And there was nothing I could do to help him. I'm not going to sit on the sidelines again and see it happen to someone else. Anyone else."
Nathaniel was quiet a moment, his gaze sliding away from Rhia to stare at the house behind them. When his eyes returned to her, she could see that he'd come to an understanding. "I don't like it. I'm not going to be happy until this is all over and done with. But I'm going to respect your wishes and I'll support you however I can."
"Thank you. That's all I ask for," she leaned in and kissed him again. This time, she spent some time teasing him with the taste of her mouth. When she pulled away, she made sure he saw the promise in her eyes. Then she took his hand and turned toward the blue house, waiting silently on its heavily protected lot. "Let's go say hi."
Rhia felt the wards vibrate when she and Nathaniel stepped onto the driveway. The magic rippled all the way down to her toes and back up again before ending with a pleasant tingling at the tip of her nose that told her she'd passed whatever test the wards had given her. She wasn't sure what Nathaniel felt, but he seemed to relax after they'd passed the edge of the property. Together, they made for the front door.
The white panel swung open before they'd put a foot on the steps leading up to it. Rhia looked up to find a man standing in the doorway, behind the storm door, waiting on them. He was young, which she hadn't been expecting. Christophe had called him an expert in demons, leaving Rhia with the impression of an older, wiser man. It was something of a shock that he wasn't much older than she was.
He had skin that was darker than Christophe's, and a head of hair that was clipped close to his scalp. He was dressed like an old Hollywood college professor, cardigan sweater over a button up shirt paired with khaki pants and brown loafers. And he stared at Rhia with eyes that were milky white, not a hint of color in them. Despite the fact he appeared to be blind, his gaze was locked on to where she stood. She was sure that he saw her just fine.
The man's lips spread in a wide smile while his hand worked the latch on the door. "You must be Rhiannon. Christophe has told me so much about you. Your aura is so bright, child. So strong for one so young. Please, come in. Make yourself comfortable." The door opened on the last and he held it for her, angling his body out of the way to allow her easy entrance.
"Thank you. This is my friend, Nathaniel. He's here for moral support," she said as she motioned to Nathaniel. Their host's eyes moved with unerring accuracy to where Nathaniel stood and she watched as he studied her companion. The two men stared at one another for far longer than Rhia was comfortable with, then their host's smile broke across his face again, even wider than before.
"Welcome, young leopard. You'll find that no harm will come to you here in my home. And you need not worry about Rhiannon. All will be well. You'll see," the man said. "I am Cassadore."
Rhia nearly tripped over her own feet at that. Nathaniel shot her a curious glance. She might have shaken her head at him, but their host's rich, warm laughter stopped her. "So you've heard of me. I'm honored, child."
"Heard of you, yes. But not as anything more than a legend," Rhia admitted.
"All legends are rooted in reality," Cassadore replied. He turned to Nathaniel. "Your young man is confused by our talk, Rhiannon."
She smiled at Nathaniel. "Your name is legend in witches' circles. Nathaniel has never had cause to spend time with witches until now. No doubt he's never heard of you or your family."
"Me? No. Many don't know who I am. My family, though? That's another matter. Isn't it?" Cassadore gave her an indulgent look and a nod of his head. "You may tell him, child. Better he understands why you're in awe than wondering if I've done something to bespell you. If you'll follow me? Christophe awaits us in my study."
Cassadore led them deeper into the house. She and Nathaniel followed after him, Rhia's brain too occupied by this latest turn of events to take much note of her surroundings. She did see the confusion on Nathaniel's face, though, and hurried to explain. "Cassadore's name is a whispered legend in magical circles. Because of what he is and because of who he is."
"He's a seer, right?" Nathaniel asked. Rhia smiled at him.
"Yes. He's a seer. But not the way I am. I get specific visions based on what I've touched or what someone has said to me. Cassadore is a seer. But he's more. He's an oracle. In fact, he's the last oracle."
"An oracle? Like ancient Greece?"
"Very much like ancient Greece. In fact, Cassadore is descended from the very first of the oracles."
Nathaniel's eyes went wide. "Cassandra?"
"Cassandra was my many times great grandmother," Cassadore said as they entered into what looked like a study. Natural wood had been used liberally through out the room, from the shelves that held hundreds of books to the desk and chairs that dominated the floor to the paneling on the walls to the flooring itself. He'd favored dark greens for the curtains and the cushions on the chairs. Several windows allowed light into the area, giving it a warm and mellow kind of atmosphere. A side table was laden with bowls of various sizes, crystals, small bottles full of liquids, and even the proverbial crystal ball. "Welcome to my inner sanctum."
Their appearance brought Christophe to his feet. The other man had been sitting at in a chair, nose buried in a book. He closed it and set it aside as he stood, letting Rhia see that the writing was in what looked to be Greek and the book was bound in aged leather. Christophe smiled at them and made a motion with one hand. "Rhiannon. Come in, child! It is good to see you. And Nathaniel, too. I take it he's here to protect you?" Christophe's voice was filled with amusement, but Rhia heard the underlying thread of seriousness in his words. She smiled and nodded.
"He doesn't like that I'm playing bait. But he's willing to respect my decision," she told him.
"You're still determined to go through with this?" Christophe asked, as if certain she'd have changed her mind about trying to court the attention of a magic user wielding the power of a demon.
"I am," she nodded.
"Is Aedan still on the fence about this?"
"Not really. She's still not happy that I'd willingly put myself in harm's way, but she's going to back me up. So I've got that extra bit of protection," Rhia replied.
"You've spoken to her?" Christophe sounded surprised by that. "I was under the impression that she wanted nothing to do with us after our last encounter."
"She's moved back in with Jean Claude," Rhia said, choosing to omit the part where a sneaky vampire and witch had nearly cost her her life.
"They will not give up so easily as that," Cassadore interjected. A glance his way showed that his face had gone slack and his eyes were even milkier than before. Rhia shuddered. She couldn't imagine just falling into a vision because of a few words. "They will try to hunt her and destroy her. It is a good thing she comes from a strong line of hunters."
Christophe shot her a look that said she needed to tell him everything. Rhia sighed and muttered a few impolite things to herself. "The people who killed Anita have set their sights on Aedan. After her show of power at Jean Claude's party last month, she more or less put a target on her own back. Just the other day, she got home to find a vampire and a shapeshifted witch in her apartment. They might have killed her, had help not been nearby."
Christophe made a noise at the back of his throat that might have been a sound of agreement or a sound of disgust. Rhia wasn't sure and she wasn't about to ask and find out. Instead, she glanced around Cassadore's study. "This is where I work," he said, moving with ease to the chair settled behind the massive desk. "I seek my visions here. Or they seek me, depending on the nature of the vision. I also cast spells from this room."
"I wasn't aware you were a witch," Rhia commented.
Cassadore gave a broad smile and gestured to the empty chairs with one hand. "I am more than a witch, child. But you didn't come here to hear stories about myself. You came to learn what you can about demons."
"Yes. Anything you can tell me that can help us stop the demon and the summoner will be very much appreciated," Rhia said. She settled into a chair and wasn't surprised when Nathaniel remained standing, positioned so that he was at her back. When he put a hand on her shoulder, she reached up and patted it gently.
"You have seen the demon." It was a statement, not a question. She flicked her gaze at Christophe, who silently shook his head. When she turned her attention back to Cassadore, it was to find he was watching her intently with those milky eyes. One hand was reached for her across the surface of the desk. "Give me your hand, child."
She knew what he was asking her to do. She just wasn't sure she wanted to do it. She saw the demon enough in her dreams and visions. She didn't want to intentionally bring up memories of him. But Cassadore couldn't help if he didn't know what he was dealing with. Rhia reached out and reluctantly put her hand in his.
The moment their skin touched, magic jolted along her nerves and poured into her from his hand. It was unlike anything she'd ever experienced before. The rush made her heart pound in her chest, made her blood speed through her veins. Made her think of Nathaniel naked and on top of her. His magic filled her up from top to bottom, seeking and probing. She knew the moment he found the memory, felt his hand tighten around hers. Saw his eyes widen. Saw the milky color darken until they were nearly the same color as his skin. And then his touch was gone. She found herself practically slumped in her chair, gasping to catch her breath. Nathaniel was on his knees before her, watching her face intently with very concerned eyes.
"This is not good," Cassadore said. It sounded like a bell was tolling when he spoke. Rhia shook her head. That had to be some kind of trick, maybe made possible by the magic that he'd used on her. But there was no trick involved in the way his eyes had changed. Nor was there any trick in the way he seemed to be more than he'd appeared to be just moments before. Power like that belonged to the old Gods. Not to a human seer. Not even one who claimed kinship with the Cassandra. "Christophe, bring me Ohna's tome."
Rhia watched as Christophe gave the appearance of being startled. Then it was gone as he got up and moved to the shelves behind him. She watched as he pulled a large volume off the shelf. Even from a distance, she could tell that it wasn't bound with leather. A chill slid down her spine as she returned her attention to Cassadore. Maybe she should have listened to Nathaniel and they should have left when they'd had the chance.
Christophe brought the book to Cassadore, setting it almost reverently on the desk before him. Silence filled the office as he opened the book and began turning pages. His eyes, once again milky white, were on the book as if he could read what was written on it. Each page turned over brought forth a musty smell that was and wasn't like the one found in libraries holding very old books. This book was old. Older than any Rhia had ever laid her eyes on before. But the pages didn't smell like paper. And the words she could see didn't look like they'd been written by ink.
"Here," Cassadore said after turning a page. He was about two thirds of the way through the book. He motioned to Rhia to come closer. She rose and approached the desk slowly The image that stared out at her from the page was the thing of her worst nightmares. There was no denying that this was the demon she'd seen in her dreams and visions, that this was the demon Aedan was trying to stop. She shuddered at the sight of it. Her eyes slid down over the page to find the entry about it at the bottom. A series of consonants made up its name, unpronounceable and unintelligible gibberish that still brought forth a sensation of panic and fear. She pulled back after only a couple seconds and returned to her seat in a hurry.
It was a blessing to have Nathaniel there because his hand came to rest on her own, offering her a sense of safety that, even though she knew it was an illusion, made her feel as if nothing could happen to her.
"That's it," she said softly. Cassadore looked up at Christophe, who took his cue and looked down at the page.
"This is not good at all," Christophe agreed, his expression grim.
"I'm missing something," Rhia said, her gaze sliding between the two men.
Cassadore closed the book and pinned her with an intense stare that shouldn't have been possible with his eyes. "We call it Bart. We do not speak the names given demons by those who seek to use them and borrow power."
"Less chance of catching the demon's attention," Rhia said
"Exactly. Ohna was one of Cassandra's line, born centuries ago. She compiled this book of demons after a small cult decided they wanted to bring about the ruin of world." Cassadore placed his hand on the cover of the book and closed his eyes. "They almost succeeded. They summoned many demons."
"Bart was one of them?" Rhia guessed.
"Bart was one of them," Christophe confirmed. The look on his face suggested he'd heard this story before and he didn't like it anymore this time around. "Demons are not of this plane. So they must be called forth. And they are usually easily controlled because of this. They have no physical form in this world. But Bart... Bart had different ideas. Bart wants to find a permanent place in this world."
"Like in my visions," she said, though it was unnecessary. Both Christophe and Cassadore nodded.
"Ohna had heard stories of previous demon summonings, had found written accounts of them. Others had tried, you see," Cassadore told her, taking up the story from Christophe. "So she knew what it would take to stop this cult. She gathered together many powerful witches and set a trap for Bart and the other demons. It was difficult and several of the witches lost their lives. But they managed to stop the demons. After that, Ohna traveled the world, seeking out any written knowledge about demons. She destroyed what she could find. Then she wrote this book and put all of the information she had uncovered into it. It is passed down from one member of Cassandra's line to the next. There have been minor demon summonings over the years, people who want the demon to grant them an easy life. But no one has tried to or succeeded in summoning Bart since Ohna's time. I do not know where this summoner found Bart's name, but he should be considered as dangerous as Bart is. They both need to be stopped. Destroyed, if possible."
Rhia frowned at that. "I wasn't aware you could destroy a demon."
"It can be done, child. But you have to be a strong witch to do so. Very few people who have summoned Bart have lived to see their desires fulfilled. Christophe has told me you wish to help your friend stop Bart. That you wish to play as bait for the summoner. Have a care what you wish for." Cassadore handed the book back to Christophe, who returned it to its place on the shelf. As he did so, Cassadore opened a drawer and withdrew an envelope from it. "This is information that will help you in your quest. Once you have memorized it, you must burn the information so that it falls into no one else's hands. Use a cleansing ritual when you do so to banish unwanted spirits. Share it with no one. And take great care, child. Bart takes great pride and pleasure in destroying magic users. I do not wish to see one so young and talented lost to his darkness."
"Thank you," Rhia said. She reached for the envelope. A jolt of power ran up her arm when she touched the paper. Cassadore smiled at her.
"You have a big heart, Rhiannon Eireen Fitzpatrick. I see great things in your future," Cassadore said, then released his hold on the envelope. There was a note of something in his words, something that suggested to her that she'd just been given the beginning of a prophecy. A shiver ran down her spine. Rhia offered him a smile and tucked the envelope into her bag.
"Thank you." There was a great deal of sincerity in her words. His smile only widened. "And thank you for your time. I appreciate it."
"We will meet again, Rhiannon. Have no doubt. And when we do, I will answer the question you have not yet asked me."
It wasn't until they were in the car and on their way back to Rhia's apartment that Nathaniel broke the silence that had fallen over them. "I don't know who or what Cassadore is, but he isn't just a seer."
Yeah. Her thoughts exactly.
~*~*~*~*~
"The whore is back."
He hadn't heard that voice in some time and had assumed that she'd left him to rot, content to cavort with her demon spawn lover. Apparently he'd assumed wrong. Because the amount of venom in her words led him to believe that the situation between herself and the demon spawn hadn't changed, even with the demon's whore living elsewhere. He was going to have to play this just right if he wanted her help in escaping his prison. Time to turn on the charm.
He finished the last lines of his prayer, then lifted his head to find the blonde vampire standing before the closed door. She was staring at him, eyes intent and mouth pulled down into an deep frown. He wasn't sure if she was upset with the whore or with him. He really hoped that her ire was directed at the whore. Even so, he did his best to look sympathetic.
"Are you afraid that God wasn't listening?" he asked, making sure to keep his tone careful and non-threatening. He was well aware of the kind of damage the woman could deal to him if he upset her further. He had no wish to fall prey to her unnatural thirsts. He still had so much to do. And more and more, he was certain that she was the key to achieving his goals.
"I told you before. God doesn't live in this place. He has forsaken us all." Her anger lashed at him. Had it been tangible, it would have flayed the flesh from his bones. She obviously thought he'd lied to her. He considered his course of action before speaking again.
"How can you be so sure?"
"I told you. The whore is back! My Master has spent several nights of this past week out with her. Several mornings ago, he returned with the wretched witch in tow. She bides her time here as if she'd never left. And my Master fawns over her as if she is the most precious thing on this earth. God does not live here. God has forsaken us. All of us. Including you."
"Perhaps this is not God's doing, but the Devil's?" he suggested lightly. She frowned at him, as if his suggestion was stupid. But he could see that she hadn't considered that angle before now. "I told you the whore is evil. Maybe she used her powers on your Master to convince him to let her return. Perhaps he is, even now, under her spell."
The vampire's face suggested she wanted to believe. But she was doing her best to keep him from seeing that hope. Her frown intensified, her anger making her appear thinner. Harder. More angular. "Why would she leave here if she was going to use her magic against him? Why not just put him under her spell to begin with?"
He lifted his shoulders in a shrug, spread his hands in a gesture to suggest he didn't know why this would happen. "Who knows? Maybe she enjoys playing with his emotions. Why does anyone evil do anything to another living soul? Merely because its something they enjoy doing. They get off on the pain they cause. Maybe that's what the whore is doing."
"I will kill her!" the vampire growled, hands curling into fists.
"Its an option," he began, then left the rest of his sentence hanging. He needed to hook her interest here and now, or else this would never work. The vampire stared at him, waiting. He could practically feel the curiosity building inside of her. It was almost too easy and he had to hold the smile back. He'd never thought in all his days that he'd be making a real effort to manipulate a vampire into doing his will. There was a kind of heady rush that came with the knowledge that he was very possibly going to succeed and he had to stomp it out before he lost control of it and gave himself away.
"But?" she asked when she realized he wasn't going to say any more.
"But what happens when your Master discovers that you are the reason for the whore's demise? If he truly is under her spell, he'll be enraged. What will he do to you if he finds you're the one who killed her? You won't get to be with him that way." He kept his tone light, but fervent, as if he truly cared about what happened to her.
There was no emotion to go by on her face, but he could tell she hadn't considered it before. She'd only been able to see what she perceived to be the obstacle to her happiness and how best to get that obstacle out of her way. She said nothing. Her eyes, though, begged him for help. It had been almost too easy to hook her. Now he had to be careful and reel her in. Slowly, so as not to frighten her. Or make her realize he was using her for his own gain. "You have an idea?"
"I do," he nodded. Then he made a show of looking around to ensure they were alone. To let her know they were conspirators. To make her think that he wanted nothing untoward to happen to her. To hook her even deeper. "There are people who would take her away. Try to drive the evil from her. It wouldn't be easy. And it would take time."
"My Master would still be under her spell, would he not?" she asked. He was going to lose her. She wanted immediate gratification.
"Perhaps for a little while," he conceded. "However, imagine the look on his face when her spell is lifted and you're there at his side. Where you've always been. Don't you think he'd be grateful that you cared enough to watch over him even when he couldn't see how much you cared?"
"Maybe," she admitted. Reluctantly. She sounded petulant. He hadn't convinced her. At least, not yet. But he had one more card he could play. It would be up to her after that.
Just one last bit of information... "I would be willing to tell you how to find these people. How to contact them and arrange for them to take her away. But you would have to do something for me in return."
Her eyes narrowed, as if she'd expected something like this. As if she'd expected it all to be a trick. Her gaze found his and it was only by sheer luck that he kept his eyes from fully meeting hers. He had heard enough stories to know why allowing such a thing to happen was a bad idea. All that was required now was for him to set the bait. He had her nibbling at the line. He only needed to give her something to chew on that she couldn't resist. And he had just the thing.
"It would hurt," he said softly. "The tactics these people would use to drive the evil from her. They would hurt her badly. She'd be in constant pain. Crying and screaming and begging for it to stop. And, if the evil in her was strong enough, the tactics could kill her."
Nothing registered on her face. But he could see that his last bit of information had shattered the last of her remaining hesitation. There was no tell-tale sign, no expression or movement or anything. It didn't matter. She was well and truly hooked now.
"I will think on it," she said tersely, then she turned and left the room.
"I'll pray for you," he said, sure she'd hear him. Then he bowed his head and went back to his prayers. Yes, he would pray for her. Pray that she was stupid enough to believe him. Stupid enough that she would give him what he wanted. And if the whore actually died in the process... Well, that was one less worry to weigh on his shoulders. Wasn't it?
~*~*~*~*~
"Where are we going, Zane?" Minette asked, a sigh hanging on the edges of her question. He was behind the wheel, Minette riding in the passenger's seat. Cherry was in the back. They'd just had a lovely lunch, a spur of the moment thing to get Minette away from her growing confusion where Aedan was concerned, and were now headed in the opposite direction of the Circus. She shot Zane a look to find that he was grinning at her knowingly. She'd learned fairly quickly that that grin meant nothing good.
"Relax, Minerva," he teased. She frowned at his use of her given name. No one called her that. Except maybe her parents. And Zane was certainly not her father. "We're just spending an afternoon away from the Circus."
"We know it has to be really weird to have Aedan back and she's still not really talking to you," Cherry said from the back. Minette turned to look at her.
"This is your way of trying to cheer me up?"
"Yes," Cherry nodded.
"It wasn't necessary. Whatever problem there is between Aedan and I, we'll work it out," Minette replied. She tried to sound more confident than she felt.
"Its been more than two weeks," Zane added. As if she needed the reminder.
"We'll work it out," Minette repeated. Maybe if she said it enough, she'd even make herself believe it. The heavy silence from her two companions told her exactly how much they believed it. "Seriously. You don't have to try and cheer me up. I'm okay."
Zane gave a laugh that echoed loudly with his disbelief. "You're not okay, Minette. I'm going to be frank here. If you were any less okay, I'd start to think you were in love with Aedan. Not in the 'we're best friends and family' way that you love her but in the same way you love Micah and Jason. Like, deeply in love and ready to get married and start a family with her. I don't know what happened to see her pulling away the way she has. I don't care. I don't like seeing you upset. If I thought it would help, I'd get in her face about it."
"No, you won't!" Minette said, tension snapping to life in her voice. She knew exactly how Aedan would welcome that kind of intrusion into her personal life. Zane was highly allergic to silver bullets and Aedan wouldn't have issues pulling the trigger.
"She isn't that big and bad, Minette," Zane shot back, a hint of old arrogance touching his voice that seemed rusty around the edges. She sent him a glance that told him he was an idiot. "She wouldn't hurt me."
"Aedan has no problems shooting anyone who gets in her way. And that includes you, Zane. She wouldn't kill you, because she can't. But she'd make sure you hurt bad." Minette's head was filled with images of the night she and Jason had led a pair of men following her to Aedan's work. She hadn't even let them get out of the car before she'd gotten a shot off. There'd been no time to ask questions, because they'd thrown the car into reverse and burned rubber to get out of there as fast as possible.
Zane started speaking again, prompting Minette to tune him out. He was going on a minor rant about Aedan and Minette didn't want to hear it. It was almost as if Zane felt threatened by her and Minette couldn't understand why he'd feel that way. Instead, she let her mind roll over the past few days. She'd been surprised when Jean Claude had returned to the Circus early one morning with Aedan at his side. No one had explained to her how such a feat had come to pass. And Aedan had refused to be alone with Minette for more than a minute at a time. She was still acting like an icy, prickly, snotty bitch. Minette just didn't understand it at all.
Holding on to a sigh, Minette resolved it was best to stop thinking about it. Aedan was Aedan and she'd either stop being a bitch or she wouldn't. Dwelling on the other woman's behavior wouldn't get Minette anything beyond a serious case of frustration and high blood pressure. In an attempt to shift her focus from the same thoughts that had plagued her for weeks now, she let her gaze take in their surroundings. Maybe she could figure out where Zane and Cherry were taking her.
She didn't really recognize where they were at, but that wasn't surprising. Ever since her arrival in St. Louis, Minette had been busy with the pard in one fashion or another. First had been caring for the grieving members. Then had been discovering her place among the pard and her growth in power. Then had come the coalition. She and Micah had been working tirelessly on so many things. Not the least of which was the lycanthrope murders and who could possibly be targeting members of the shifter community. Thus far, they'd seemed to stick solely to the wolves, but that didn't mean anything. There was no telling if they'd strike any of the other groups. And how vicious they'd be in their attacks.
The only one who seemed to have a handle on the murders, and the murderers themselves, was Aedan. And it wasn't as if she was sharing anything with Minette. Maybe some of the other woman's fuck you attitude was Minette's own fault. It wasn't like Minette had tried to help ease some of Aedan's burden. Between the lycanthrope murders and the demon killings, Minette had no doubt Aedan had been seeing the worst of humanity possible. She no doubt needed someone to help share her load. And Minette had conveniently made herself unavailable in that regard. Maybe Aedan ignoring her was the other woman's manner of letting her know she knew what Minette had done and was paying her back in kind.
Minette had to bite back a sound of disgust. Ugh. This line of thinking was only going to give her a headache. She did her best to shove thoughts of anyone else to the back of her brain and give her attention once more to her surroundings. And it was when she did so that she realized that something was off. Minette let her gaze slide from the side mirror to the rear view. Without looking at Zane, she motioned to a corner up ahead. "Turn there."
"What for?" Zane asked, taking his attention from the road for a moment to look at her. She frowned and motioned again to the corner.
"Just do it. Turn there. I'm testing a theory," she ordered. Zane muttered under his breath, but got over into the right hand lane. His blinker came on and he took the turn. Minette watched in the side mirror. A blue two-door turned behind them. "Now turn left up there," she instructed, one hand motioning to the turn in question.
"Are you okay? You're acting weird," Zane asked, but did as she'd commanded. He got into the turn lane, blinker announcing their action, and turned onto the next road. Sure enough, the blue car made the same turn.
"Son of a bitch," Minette growled
"Minette?" Cherry asked softly.
"We're being followed," Minette told her, her eyes catching Cherry's in the rear view mirror. The other woman tensed. She saw her gaze check the mirror. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Zane's hands tighten down on the steering wheel.
"What are we going to do?" Zane questioned. There was a growl to his voice that said he was getting worked up.
Minette considered it. They could stop. She could no doubt take on anyone who threatened her. She had the power to do so. But this was the second time she'd found a vehicle she was in being tailed and that wasn't simply a coincidence. There was a reason for it. And challenging the people in the other car to some kind of fight wouldn't get them any information. "We keep going. Where ever we're going, its going to be someplace extremely crowded. Possibly with a heavy police presence."
"You don't want to stop and kick their asses?" Zane's voice said that was exactly what he wanted to do.
"No. Kicking their asses won't get us anywhere. And it'll only make whoever has these people following us more careful the next time.
"There's a mall close by. It should be extremely crowded this time of day," Cherry offered.
"Hmmm. A mall isn't really a good idea. Not enough of a police presence. Besides, mall cops won't have the training to deal with anything beyond unruly teens stealing iPhones to piss their parents off. No. We need something else," Minette said, brain turning over what they could do to avoid a confrontation.
"There. That's the perfect solution," Zane said, one hand motioning toward a billboard just ahead. It was an advertisement for a chili and barbeque cook off. And it was being sponsored by the St. Louis police department. It was the perfect solution. And, if they were lucky, Minette would be able to find some of the members of the RPIT squad.
"I hope you guys are hungry. Because it looks like we're going to a cook off," she said quietly.
"Excellent. I'm in the mood for some good barbeque," Zane said cheerfully, then turned off at the next exit. Minette gave a faint smile, her gaze still locked onto the side mirror. She watched as the blue car exited behind them. For a moment, she had a very uncharitable thought. Maybe she should take some of her frustration out on whoever was behind the wheel of that car. It might make her feel better.
But it wouldn't get her any closer to figuring out just what the fuck was going on. Would it?
~*~*~*~*~
"Come on, Micah! We've talked about this until we've gotten blue in the face. We're past talk. We've moved on to action. We need to do something to put a stop to the threat hanging over the community's collective heads. We need to be out on the street, finding these sick fucks and putting an end to them," Isis snarled, her lioness shining in her eyes.
There was a low rumble of sound from around the table. It would seem others agreed with her. He sighed and held up his hands in a call for silence, which came slow and begrudgingly. His eyes slid from one face to the next, letting them all see the look in them. "This isn't our fight, Isis," he said quietly.
"What do you mean, it isn't our fight? They're targeting shifters. Of course its our fight!" Isis replied.
"They're targeting wolves. Which means its Richard's problem. Its his people's problem. It isn't ours. And he's content to leave the task of finding them and punishing them to Aedan."
"They're targeting wolves now. But next it'll be lions. Or hyenas. Or leopards. Will you sit back then and let them keep doing what they're doing? Or will you finally take action? Are you content to let Aedan fight our fights for us?"
Micah sighed and shook his head. "In this instance, yes. If we hunt these people down and take revenge upon them, that makes us no better than them. Is that what you want?
Micah's words, spoken so softly and with such feeling, left her momentarily speechless. Of course she didn't want to be like the people who were murdering her fellow lycanthropes. But neither did she want to sit back and be a victim. Why couldn't he see that? "So we just stand around and let ourselves be targets. That's what you're suggesting. We just wait to get murdered."
"I'm not suggesting anything of the sort. We keep an eye out. We keep an ear to the ground. We take any information we gather and give it to Aedan. She'll find these people and she'll bring them to justice. She doesn't want to see anyone else murdered, whether you believe that or not. She's doing everything in her power to protect us. All of us."
"It isn't enough, Micah. People are scared. Its undermining everything we've built here. Trust is starting to unravel. No one wants to wait around to become the next victim."
"And you think that going after these people by yourselves will prevent you from being the next victim?" he asked, voice light. It did what he'd obviously planned it to do. Everyone stopped and stared at him. Micah spread his hands in a kind of 'look, this is how it is' gesture and made sure everyone was paying attention when he next spoke. "We don't know how they've managed to capture their victims. We only know they use silver and they like to torture people. How do you plan on taking them down when you have no idea who they are or how they actually attain their victims?"
"We can't sit there and do nothing," one of the other said. Micah looked at him and frowned. Isis could tell that he was tired of this conversation. They'd had it time and again and, somehow, Micah had managed to talk them out of doing anything rash each and every time. But his arguments were wearing thin and people were getting anxious.
"How many of you know Aedan personally?" Micah asked quietly. It was a different tact and Isis wasn't sure where he planned on going with it. Most of the hands around the table went up to indicate that nearly everyone of them had met Aedan. Micah nodded his head at that. "How many of you think she'd blame herself if something happened to you?"
There was a soft murmur as the others considered that. To be honest, Isis hadn't really thought about it herself. She was so focused on making sure the community was safe that she hadn't taken much else into account. Isis suddenly understood why Micah was constantly against anyone going after the killers themselves. She was ashamed she hadn't thought of it herself. "She'd definitely blame herself if anything happened," Isis confirmed. All eyes turned her way. "She takes her duties protecting us far too seriously. If anyone at this table was to get hurt because they'd tried to take on these killers, she'd never stop blaming herself for what happened."
There was no need to mention that the other woman hadn't stopped blaming herself for what had happened to Anita that night. Everyone inside of the community knew it. "So what do we do?" came from one of the hyenas at the table. People sitting around the table were a small gathering of lower members of the different groups who were tired of feeling as if no one was looking out for them. They'd been the ones to call the meeting. Micah had agreed to the meeting, as he did with every other one they'd ever called, and told them the same things over and over again. He took his role as head of the coalition seriously and he was determined to ensure that no one came to harm if he could help it.
"What you've been doing. Travel in pairs and groups. Never go anywhere alone. Keep an eye out and be vigilant. If you hear or see anything suspicious, call me or Isis or Richard or Raphael or Aedan. Tell us what you've seen or heard. Let us deal with it. We're the leaders of the community. Let us do our jobs and protect you all."
"Those are pretty words, Micah, but the leopards haven't been attacked," someone snarled. Micah knew he was a low ranking wolf, but not his name. "Just the wolves. No one else at this table has suffered a loss to these degenerates. This is a pack problem to deal with. You're not pack. Neither is Aedan."
"No. But Aedan is a Federal Marshal and this is her job," Micah replied, letting a hint of his power creep out into his voice. His eyes actually glowed. Just a bit. "She's asked us to let her handle it. We let her handle it. End of story. If you don't like that, you can take it up with her. But I will warn you here and now, she's in a very bad mood and she tends to shoot first and not bother with questions later. So really think about it before you decide to take it up with her."
"Are you going to let him just dictate what we can and can't do, Isis?" the wolf looked to her, his frown deepening. "You're as much an alpha as he is."
"Micah is the head of the coalition. And he's here because you asked him to meet with you," she reminded the wolf. She watched as he geared up to say something else, so she held up a hand to stall him. "I know what you're going to say. I was just as angry when I got here as the rest of you are. I was just as eager for blood as you. And that hasn't changed. I still want their blood. I want to feel it rush down my throat when I crush their windpipes in my jaws. I'm just as angry as you are. I hate that our community is under threat. But Micah's right. Aedan asked us to let her handle this. We let her handle it. And she will handle it. And when she does, she'll be the one putting her life on the line. Not any of you. Because that's who she is."
Her words saw them settling as they mulled over everything they'd been told. Much as she didn't want to leave this all on Aedan's shoulders, Micah was right. It was Aedan's job and she would handle it. Even if it killed her.
"We're getting closer to finding them. But they've been very quiet lately, which makes it hard for tips to come in. Because the only time we get tips is when they've committed a crime. They'll mess up. I guarantee it. And when they do, we'll find them. And we'll deal with them. Within the community. As is our right. But for now, try and be patient. Try and wait. Let the authorities do their jobs. Have faith that this will all be over soon."
"Easy for you to say. You're one of Jean Claude's favorites," a voice snarled.
Micah smiled, a terrible smile that saw the weaker members at the table cringing away from him. "Jean Claude doesn't have favorites. Except for Asher and his human servant. It would be wise if you remember that. He isn't above punishing those who go against his orders. Ask Gretchen if you see her. She'll tell you exactly what kind of punishment he can mete out."
The table in the back room at the Lunatic Cafe fell silent as they mulled over what Micah had just told them. Isis studied his face, seeing in it the hints of exhaustion others might not pick up on. She wasn't sure what toll the hunt for the lycanthrope killers was having on him, but it was likely just as difficult for him as it was for the rest of them. More so, because he was supposed to be protecting them.
After allowing them several moments to digest everything he'd just said, Micah pinned each member at the table with a stare. "This is the last time we talk about this. There will be no more meetings about going after these killers ourselves. Anyone who tries will be explaining to Aedan why they feel they don't have to follow her rules. Given her mood lately, you'll be lucky if she doesn't shoot you. Do you understand me?"
There were sounds of assent, some head jiggles in the affirmative. No one dared say no to his face. Not that Isis thought they'd let it go that easily. The entire shifter community was on edge, waiting to see who was next. If the killers were stopped. If someone they knew was going to come home in a body bag. Isis understood their frustration. She understood it well. And now she understood what going off half-cocked would do to those who were trying to find the killers and end their streak.
"Go home. And remember what I told you. Don't let yourselves get caught alone. This includes in your own homes. Stay with friends and family if you can. Be on the look out. If you see anything suspicious, anything at all, call me and tell me what it was and where you saw it. It could mean the life of someone else in the community."
They got up and left in small groups until only Micah and Isis were left. She looked over at him and frowned. She didn't like that he looked tired. This whole thing was wearing on him more than he was willing to let on. "We can't keep putting them off like that," she said softly. Micah glanced up at her.
"You mean you. We can't keep putting you off like that," he replied, his voice flat.
Isis frowned, but didn't deny it. He was right. She was as tired of sitting on the sidelines as everyone else. "I want to help, Micah," she told him.
"Then don't get involved. For whatever reason, this is personal for Aedan. I can't put my finger on it, but there's something about the whole thing..." he began, only to trail off on a sigh. She watched as he shook his head at her. "I don't even know anymore. I just know that she's got some kind of vendetta where these killers are involved. I don't want to get in her way."
"She's on the edge, isn't she?" Isis asked him softly.
"We all are. These killings are much closer to home than we like. Than they really ever have been. And the fact that they started happening so soon after Anita's death... I don't know. She's going to break." He shot her a look, then rose from where he sat. "Come on. Let's go home. I'm tired and I want my bed. I want to hold Minette and make sure she's okay."
Isis rose from the booth and offered him a tiny smile. "You should take your own advice, Micah. Not go anywhere alone."
He said nothing, only gave a nod of his head before motioning toward the door. Isis said nothing and turned to go, hoping like hope that he was wrong about everything.
~*~*~*~*~
They were the last two to leave the popular little diner, straggling out of the brightly lit interior together as if they knew or suspected something. He shook his head. No one suspected. No one knew. If they did...
He curled his hand into his sister's hair and pulled her close to him. "There they are. You know what you're supposed to do, right?"
"Yes," she whispered softly. He thought he heard a touch of fear and petulance in her tone. His fingers tightened down until she whined, her hands coming up to grab hold of his wrist. "Yes! I know what I'm supposed to do!" Her answer came out as a hiss this time, so soft and sibilant he'd swear there was a snake in the bushes with them. He held her for a moment longer, taking the opportunity to give her a good shake, before letting her go. She almost went down to the ground, but caught herself before she could do so. He let his gaze slide to the parking lot and his intended victim.
They hadn't been heard, the two in the lot standing close to the door while they chatted about something. They had to wait, had to be patient. They needed just the right opportunity. Any sooner or later would see their mission failing.
He hated biding his time. Hated waiting. Waiting for that sound in the hall that meant trouble was coming his way. Waiting for that sugary sweet breath on his cheek and the touch of knowing hands and... He broke from his thoughts with a soft growl. When she touched his arm in silent question, he reacted by slapping her. The blow was hard, and loud. It left her with blood trickling from her nose. And his game staring around intensely, seeking out the source of the sound.
He grabbed her hair again, shook her again. "Go! And don't forget to play your part perfectly!" he hissed at her, then threw her from him.
He watched as she staggered from the bushes, her eyes wide and wild as she looked back to where he stood. Then she fell into her role and faced forward, running across the road in bare feet and tattered clothes with blood upon her face and that look of fear in her eyes. The pair in the lot saw her and immediately went on the defensive. They focused their attention on her so completely that they didn't think to keep an eye on the bushes across the road.
They intercepted her easily enough. And she fell into their arms, crying and babbling hysterically. Her act was convincing. It gave him time to bring the barrel of the gun up and take aim. Gave him time to feel a surge of something dark and evil and pleasurable when he thought about what he'd do when he had his prize in hand.
Something went wrong. He wasn't sure what it was. But one moment, he was aiming at his target, ready to fire. The next, his sister was being thrown to the ground. "Run!" someone yelled. His finger squeezed the trigger as his sister sprang up to her feet and he heard a howl of pain as his ammunition hit its target.
~*~*~*~*~
"You look better," Edward commented, staring at her over the table and his steak. Aedan frowned at him and bit into a forkful of her baked potato. "Rested. What's been going on in your life to bring about this change? Last I saw you, you looked like death warmed over. And that's being polite."
She stared at him, trying to decide if this was all an act or the genuine thing. He had to give it to her. She was naturally a suspicious person. She probably suspected that he had a hand in the change he was commenting on. But she was weighing that against his dislike of the vampires and her place in their world. No doubt she figured he wouldn't go to Jean Claude and talk to the vampire about her mental health. But the suspicion was there simply because that's who she was. She shrugged a shoulder and sipped her water.
"Well, I survived an assassination attempt," she remarked. It was done so in such an offhanded manner that he thought for a moment she was joking. Then he realized she was serious.
"Aedan," he began.
"The shape shifting witch and the vampire involved are dead. Not by my hand, either. Jean Claude took care of the witch. One of the assassin's elite took care of the vampire. I'm fine. Just a couple of claw pricks and a lot of chagrin because I didn't even sense them in my apartment before they jumped me," she said.
"Your apartment? How did a vampire get into your apartment?" he asked. He set his fork down on the edge of his plate. Very carefully. Aedan stared at him a moment.
"I expect the witch invited her in before she shifted into a bear."
"How did the witch get into your apartment?"
Aedan shrugged. "She probably bespelled the maintenance staff to let her in."
"Aedan." There was warning in his voice. Damn it, this wasn't supposed to have happened.
"Chill, dad. Its handled. Like I said, Jean Claude killed the witch. A friend of Mischa's killed the vampire. And my ass is back with Jean Claude," she told him. Then she pinned him with a look that would have frozen with fear a man of lesser courage. "Which is exactly where I suspect you wanted me to be."
He might have made comment to her accusation, but her cell phone rang. Aedan frowned and fished it from her pocket, then frowned harder when she looked at the screen and saw the identity of her caller. "Hello?"
There was silence a moment, then Aedan's face went from confused to pissed in the blink of an eye. She was already standing from her chair. Edward fished money from his pocket and laid on the table, following her from the table toward the door. "Wait, what? Slow down. Slow down. Tell me all of that again. And where are you?"
Her caller apparently answered the last question first.
"Okay. Meet me at home. I'm on my way." He might have asked her what was going on but the look on her face, it was bad. He took hold of her arm and pulled her toward his vehicle. Aedan never shot him a look or said a word, which told him all he needed to know about just how bad things were.
Shit.
Chapter Forty Seven: Putting the Plan in Motion
Fandom: Anita Blake universe
Rating: 18 and up
Warnings: graphic sex and violence, language, anything else i can toss in.
Disclaimer: the recognizable characters and places contained herein are the property of LKH. i'm merely borrowing for the sake of entertainment. no money is being made from this venture. the Sues are the sole property of their originators, Ginevra, Dazzledfirestar, Nanaea, SilverFoxChan and ladydeathfaerie. the concept and title of The Mary Sue Virus are used with permission from Dazzledfirestar.
Author's Notes: the interior of this chapter was meant to happen in the last chapter before it decided it wanted to go in a different direction. so here's what should have happened. oh, look. more evil cliffies!
The Mary Sue Virus: Beyond Death - Index Link
Someone was going to die.
Jean Claude could see the dilemma before him and could have kicked himself for allowing something like this to happen. Whoever the vampire's master was, they had been watching and waiting. Planning. And his failure to anticipate this kind of action was going to result in someone's death. Because Jean Claude knew that the chance he'd be able to save both of them was slim. He was fast, but he was up against a master level vampire and what he suspected was an alpha werebear. His speed meant nothing here. No matter which of the women he decided to rescue, it was almost a certainty that the other would die.
He could feel Wicked and Truth, caught outside the invisible barrier that had prevented him from entering not that long ago. Both were agitated and angry. He couldn't say he blamed them one bit. And if he could find a way to remove the barrier that kept them out without alerting his companions to his actions, he would surely use it. But he didn't think that a silent invitation would work. He was surprised to find that it had worked when the person issuing it wasn't the inhabitant.
Tension stretched his shoulders tight as he faced off with the other vampire. Her smile grew wider the longer they stood there, her eyes darkening with intent as the minutes passed. It was only a matter of seconds now. And the moment she moved, he would have to make a decision. He'd be lying if he claimed he hadn't already made that decision. He only hoped that he'd be offered forgiveness for his sins when the time came.
It never came. Instead, Jean Claude felt a sense of wildness nearby. It was distant for a moment or two, then deepened as it grew nearer and nearer. In seconds, the wildness was practically right on top of him. Then the glass of the patio door exploded and a large, furred shape flew across the room. It was headed for the vampire, which left Jean Claude with the bear. He was in motion in the blink of an eye, every last bit of strength he had put into pulling the bear away from Aedan before it could do anymore harm to her.
The paw at her throat flexed just as he reached the bear, driving the claws deeper into her flesh. Aedan let out a sound of pain, her eyes fluttering as she tried to rouse herself. He took hold of the bear's front leg with both hands and jerked so hard and so suddenly that the crack of bone drowned out the sounds of the wolf's growls from the other side of the room. Aedan slid limply to the floor, breath rattling in her throat as she struggled to replace the air that she'd been deprived.
The bear roared and reared back, using the free paw to swat at Jean Claude. He caught that leg with both hands, too. Jerked it hard. Snapped it as easily as a small child snapped tiny twigs. The bear roared its pain again and tried lunging for Jean Claude, intent on catching his head between its opened jaws. His hands were there to catch the bear's upper and lower jaws. And then he pulled them apart.
The bear's head ripped in half, spraying blood and gore across the room, then the animal dropped to the floor. It twitched a time or two before it fell still. By then, Jean Claude had turned from it to assess the wolf's battle with the strange vampire. She was dead, head severed from her body. The ragged marks suggested the wolf had literally bitten her head off. A naked and bloodied man was leaning over Claudia, checking her over for serious injury. For a moment, Jean Claude was torn between ensuring that Aedan was okay and taking on the strange man to ensure that they were both safe. "Make sure she's okay. You're safe enough with me," the man said, never even looking up from Claudia.
Jean Claude took him at his word. He knelt beside Aedan, hands gentle as they checked every inch of her to determine how badly she'd been hurt. Her eyes fluttered again, blinked open, and found his face. She said nothing, simply wrapped her arms around him and hugged him close. If he noticed that she'd buried her face into his chest and was crying silent tears, he said nothing. He only held her and allowed her time to compose herself. He waited until she pulled away before he spoke. "How badly are you hurt?"
"I'm okay," she said, then promptly coughed. It made him wonder how hard the bear had pressed its paw against her throat.
"You are bleeding, ma poupette," he informed her. She caught the meaning behind his words right off the bat.
"There's nothing to worry about," she assured him. The look he sent her told her he wasn't so sure about that. She'd just had a lycanthrope's claws under her skin. "That isn't a real werebear." Aedan glanced at the remains and made a face. "Correction. That wasn't a real werebear."
He gave her that same look again. "Aedan."
"I know what you're thinking, Jean Claude. I promise I'm not being difficult. That wasn't a real werebear. It didn't feel right. The energy was wrong. Which was why I didn't realize it was here until it was on me." She rose to her feet, albeit a touch unsteadily, then crossed to the bear's corpse. A thick, viscous pool of blood had formed around the torn remains of the bear's head and she slid when she stepped into it, but she didn't fall. He watched as she squatted, careful to keep herself above the gore, and put her hands on the bear's chest. Her fingers moved through the shaggy fur for a few moments, then stopped. "Ha. There it is."
She did something that looked a lot like unbuttoning a button, and the bear's fur parted down the center. When it fell fully away, they were left staring at the headless body of a woman. She wore only panties and bra under the bear skin. Aedan's fingers caught something shiny near the woman's throat. She stared at it thoughtfully for several long seconds. "I've seen this before. One of my neighbors wears a pendant like this. Son of a bitch."
Jean Claude was sure he didn't like the implications of that statement.
"They must want you dead badly if they're sending a shapeshifting witch and a vampire after you," the stranger said. Jean Claude and Aedan both looked at him. He was standing now, one arm slung around Claudia to help support her weight, and he stared at the two of them. If he cared about his nudity, it didn't show on his face. "I'm Jake. Mischa sent me to watch over you."
"Of course he did." Aedan didn't sound pleased about that. She stood slowly and glanced around her bedroom. "I'm not getting any sleep tonight, am I? Just look at this mess."
"I think, given the attack, that it would be better if you were to stay with me," Jean Claude suggested. Aedan turned a look on him that he knew well. She was preparing her argument already. He lifted one hand to stave off the argument she planned on making. The other hand gestured to the decapitated vampire. "They managed to find a way into your home. When you were not here. And they might have killed you, had Claudia not been so close by. Please. For your safety and for my peace of mind."
She glanced at the corpses again, at the mess their deaths had left behind, and heaved a long suffering sigh. "Fine. I really don't want to deal with this mess anyway."
Jean Claude bit back a smile and went to the dresser to find her fresh clothes. "I will help you pack."
~*~*~*~*~
The house was very non-descript, quietly blending in with every other house in the neighborhood. It was a soft blue with white trim around the windows and doors. Black shutters stood silent sentry beside each window, one on either side, and kept watch on the comings and goings on the street. Even from this distance, it was easy to see that the shutters were for more than simple decoration. The yard was wild with weeds, but not overgrown. Someone tended the yard and kept it neat. But there were still more weeds than actual grass. A pair of young trees had been planted in the front yard. There was the same distance between the trunks as there was between the first tree and the driveway and the second tree and the edge of the yard. They were also equal distance from the house and the street. The whole thing was enclosed by a scrolling iron fence. All in all, it looked like the typical suburban house for a married couple, their two point five kids, and their dog named Fluffy.
But the moment Rhia neared the property line, she knew that image was a lie. She could feel power emanating from the house. From the actual ground. And wards ran along each one of the property's lines. Whoever lived in the house was very powerful. And very paranoid. They had to be in the right place.
"You're sure you want to go in there?" Nathaniel asked, eyes locked on the unassuming building. She thought he looked a touch uncomfortable. No doubt he could feel the immense amounts of magic surrounding the place.
"Yes. Christophe's friend has some information we're going to need if we're going to put a stop to the demon and its summoner." She took a step forward, only to have his hand settle on her arm and draw her to a halt. Rhia looked at him with a question in her eyes.
"There are some seriously weird vibes coming off that property," Nathaniel said quietly, confirming her suspicions. She could hear his discomfort in his voice.
Rhia turned a reassuring smile on him. "There are wards set up all over the place. And power like crazy. I don't know who Christophe's friend is or what he practices, but he's strong. I think it'll be okay. I can't imagine Christophe asking me over here if anything bad was going to happen. That isn't who he is. And I don't sense anything wrong with the magic."
"Rhia, you don't have to do this. Let Christophe and his friend figure out how to deal with the demon. I don't like this."
"I know how you feel. And I respect your feelings. I even understand them. But I have to help," she replied softly. "And I really do mean have to. There's a compulsion there. Like its an actual part of who I am as a person. I have to help."
Her words made him smile. Just a tiny bit. "I know. You wouldn't be the woman I love if you didn't want to help. But I've decided that I'm selfish and I don't want to see someone else I care about become some kind of sacrificial lamb on the altar of good and evil. Forgive me if I keep trying to talk you out of this insane idea."
She smiled at him, leaned in to press a kiss to his cheek. "I love that you love me. I love you, too. I honestly never thought I'd love someone like this again. Its scary and wonderful and amazing and it makes me want to run and hide. But it also gives me more reason to want to help. Because I've had dreams - nightmares, really - where you're broken and beaten and bloodied and... I can't let that come to pass. I watched someone I cared deeply about die once. And there was nothing I could do to help him. I'm not going to sit on the sidelines again and see it happen to someone else. Anyone else."
Nathaniel was quiet a moment, his gaze sliding away from Rhia to stare at the house behind them. When his eyes returned to her, she could see that he'd come to an understanding. "I don't like it. I'm not going to be happy until this is all over and done with. But I'm going to respect your wishes and I'll support you however I can."
"Thank you. That's all I ask for," she leaned in and kissed him again. This time, she spent some time teasing him with the taste of her mouth. When she pulled away, she made sure he saw the promise in her eyes. Then she took his hand and turned toward the blue house, waiting silently on its heavily protected lot. "Let's go say hi."
Rhia felt the wards vibrate when she and Nathaniel stepped onto the driveway. The magic rippled all the way down to her toes and back up again before ending with a pleasant tingling at the tip of her nose that told her she'd passed whatever test the wards had given her. She wasn't sure what Nathaniel felt, but he seemed to relax after they'd passed the edge of the property. Together, they made for the front door.
The white panel swung open before they'd put a foot on the steps leading up to it. Rhia looked up to find a man standing in the doorway, behind the storm door, waiting on them. He was young, which she hadn't been expecting. Christophe had called him an expert in demons, leaving Rhia with the impression of an older, wiser man. It was something of a shock that he wasn't much older than she was.
He had skin that was darker than Christophe's, and a head of hair that was clipped close to his scalp. He was dressed like an old Hollywood college professor, cardigan sweater over a button up shirt paired with khaki pants and brown loafers. And he stared at Rhia with eyes that were milky white, not a hint of color in them. Despite the fact he appeared to be blind, his gaze was locked on to where she stood. She was sure that he saw her just fine.
The man's lips spread in a wide smile while his hand worked the latch on the door. "You must be Rhiannon. Christophe has told me so much about you. Your aura is so bright, child. So strong for one so young. Please, come in. Make yourself comfortable." The door opened on the last and he held it for her, angling his body out of the way to allow her easy entrance.
"Thank you. This is my friend, Nathaniel. He's here for moral support," she said as she motioned to Nathaniel. Their host's eyes moved with unerring accuracy to where Nathaniel stood and she watched as he studied her companion. The two men stared at one another for far longer than Rhia was comfortable with, then their host's smile broke across his face again, even wider than before.
"Welcome, young leopard. You'll find that no harm will come to you here in my home. And you need not worry about Rhiannon. All will be well. You'll see," the man said. "I am Cassadore."
Rhia nearly tripped over her own feet at that. Nathaniel shot her a curious glance. She might have shaken her head at him, but their host's rich, warm laughter stopped her. "So you've heard of me. I'm honored, child."
"Heard of you, yes. But not as anything more than a legend," Rhia admitted.
"All legends are rooted in reality," Cassadore replied. He turned to Nathaniel. "Your young man is confused by our talk, Rhiannon."
She smiled at Nathaniel. "Your name is legend in witches' circles. Nathaniel has never had cause to spend time with witches until now. No doubt he's never heard of you or your family."
"Me? No. Many don't know who I am. My family, though? That's another matter. Isn't it?" Cassadore gave her an indulgent look and a nod of his head. "You may tell him, child. Better he understands why you're in awe than wondering if I've done something to bespell you. If you'll follow me? Christophe awaits us in my study."
Cassadore led them deeper into the house. She and Nathaniel followed after him, Rhia's brain too occupied by this latest turn of events to take much note of her surroundings. She did see the confusion on Nathaniel's face, though, and hurried to explain. "Cassadore's name is a whispered legend in magical circles. Because of what he is and because of who he is."
"He's a seer, right?" Nathaniel asked. Rhia smiled at him.
"Yes. He's a seer. But not the way I am. I get specific visions based on what I've touched or what someone has said to me. Cassadore is a seer. But he's more. He's an oracle. In fact, he's the last oracle."
"An oracle? Like ancient Greece?"
"Very much like ancient Greece. In fact, Cassadore is descended from the very first of the oracles."
Nathaniel's eyes went wide. "Cassandra?"
"Cassandra was my many times great grandmother," Cassadore said as they entered into what looked like a study. Natural wood had been used liberally through out the room, from the shelves that held hundreds of books to the desk and chairs that dominated the floor to the paneling on the walls to the flooring itself. He'd favored dark greens for the curtains and the cushions on the chairs. Several windows allowed light into the area, giving it a warm and mellow kind of atmosphere. A side table was laden with bowls of various sizes, crystals, small bottles full of liquids, and even the proverbial crystal ball. "Welcome to my inner sanctum."
Their appearance brought Christophe to his feet. The other man had been sitting at in a chair, nose buried in a book. He closed it and set it aside as he stood, letting Rhia see that the writing was in what looked to be Greek and the book was bound in aged leather. Christophe smiled at them and made a motion with one hand. "Rhiannon. Come in, child! It is good to see you. And Nathaniel, too. I take it he's here to protect you?" Christophe's voice was filled with amusement, but Rhia heard the underlying thread of seriousness in his words. She smiled and nodded.
"He doesn't like that I'm playing bait. But he's willing to respect my decision," she told him.
"You're still determined to go through with this?" Christophe asked, as if certain she'd have changed her mind about trying to court the attention of a magic user wielding the power of a demon.
"I am," she nodded.
"Is Aedan still on the fence about this?"
"Not really. She's still not happy that I'd willingly put myself in harm's way, but she's going to back me up. So I've got that extra bit of protection," Rhia replied.
"You've spoken to her?" Christophe sounded surprised by that. "I was under the impression that she wanted nothing to do with us after our last encounter."
"She's moved back in with Jean Claude," Rhia said, choosing to omit the part where a sneaky vampire and witch had nearly cost her her life.
"They will not give up so easily as that," Cassadore interjected. A glance his way showed that his face had gone slack and his eyes were even milkier than before. Rhia shuddered. She couldn't imagine just falling into a vision because of a few words. "They will try to hunt her and destroy her. It is a good thing she comes from a strong line of hunters."
Christophe shot her a look that said she needed to tell him everything. Rhia sighed and muttered a few impolite things to herself. "The people who killed Anita have set their sights on Aedan. After her show of power at Jean Claude's party last month, she more or less put a target on her own back. Just the other day, she got home to find a vampire and a shapeshifted witch in her apartment. They might have killed her, had help not been nearby."
Christophe made a noise at the back of his throat that might have been a sound of agreement or a sound of disgust. Rhia wasn't sure and she wasn't about to ask and find out. Instead, she glanced around Cassadore's study. "This is where I work," he said, moving with ease to the chair settled behind the massive desk. "I seek my visions here. Or they seek me, depending on the nature of the vision. I also cast spells from this room."
"I wasn't aware you were a witch," Rhia commented.
Cassadore gave a broad smile and gestured to the empty chairs with one hand. "I am more than a witch, child. But you didn't come here to hear stories about myself. You came to learn what you can about demons."
"Yes. Anything you can tell me that can help us stop the demon and the summoner will be very much appreciated," Rhia said. She settled into a chair and wasn't surprised when Nathaniel remained standing, positioned so that he was at her back. When he put a hand on her shoulder, she reached up and patted it gently.
"You have seen the demon." It was a statement, not a question. She flicked her gaze at Christophe, who silently shook his head. When she turned her attention back to Cassadore, it was to find he was watching her intently with those milky eyes. One hand was reached for her across the surface of the desk. "Give me your hand, child."
She knew what he was asking her to do. She just wasn't sure she wanted to do it. She saw the demon enough in her dreams and visions. She didn't want to intentionally bring up memories of him. But Cassadore couldn't help if he didn't know what he was dealing with. Rhia reached out and reluctantly put her hand in his.
The moment their skin touched, magic jolted along her nerves and poured into her from his hand. It was unlike anything she'd ever experienced before. The rush made her heart pound in her chest, made her blood speed through her veins. Made her think of Nathaniel naked and on top of her. His magic filled her up from top to bottom, seeking and probing. She knew the moment he found the memory, felt his hand tighten around hers. Saw his eyes widen. Saw the milky color darken until they were nearly the same color as his skin. And then his touch was gone. She found herself practically slumped in her chair, gasping to catch her breath. Nathaniel was on his knees before her, watching her face intently with very concerned eyes.
"This is not good," Cassadore said. It sounded like a bell was tolling when he spoke. Rhia shook her head. That had to be some kind of trick, maybe made possible by the magic that he'd used on her. But there was no trick involved in the way his eyes had changed. Nor was there any trick in the way he seemed to be more than he'd appeared to be just moments before. Power like that belonged to the old Gods. Not to a human seer. Not even one who claimed kinship with the Cassandra. "Christophe, bring me Ohna's tome."
Rhia watched as Christophe gave the appearance of being startled. Then it was gone as he got up and moved to the shelves behind him. She watched as he pulled a large volume off the shelf. Even from a distance, she could tell that it wasn't bound with leather. A chill slid down her spine as she returned her attention to Cassadore. Maybe she should have listened to Nathaniel and they should have left when they'd had the chance.
Christophe brought the book to Cassadore, setting it almost reverently on the desk before him. Silence filled the office as he opened the book and began turning pages. His eyes, once again milky white, were on the book as if he could read what was written on it. Each page turned over brought forth a musty smell that was and wasn't like the one found in libraries holding very old books. This book was old. Older than any Rhia had ever laid her eyes on before. But the pages didn't smell like paper. And the words she could see didn't look like they'd been written by ink.
"Here," Cassadore said after turning a page. He was about two thirds of the way through the book. He motioned to Rhia to come closer. She rose and approached the desk slowly The image that stared out at her from the page was the thing of her worst nightmares. There was no denying that this was the demon she'd seen in her dreams and visions, that this was the demon Aedan was trying to stop. She shuddered at the sight of it. Her eyes slid down over the page to find the entry about it at the bottom. A series of consonants made up its name, unpronounceable and unintelligible gibberish that still brought forth a sensation of panic and fear. She pulled back after only a couple seconds and returned to her seat in a hurry.
It was a blessing to have Nathaniel there because his hand came to rest on her own, offering her a sense of safety that, even though she knew it was an illusion, made her feel as if nothing could happen to her.
"That's it," she said softly. Cassadore looked up at Christophe, who took his cue and looked down at the page.
"This is not good at all," Christophe agreed, his expression grim.
"I'm missing something," Rhia said, her gaze sliding between the two men.
Cassadore closed the book and pinned her with an intense stare that shouldn't have been possible with his eyes. "We call it Bart. We do not speak the names given demons by those who seek to use them and borrow power."
"Less chance of catching the demon's attention," Rhia said
"Exactly. Ohna was one of Cassandra's line, born centuries ago. She compiled this book of demons after a small cult decided they wanted to bring about the ruin of world." Cassadore placed his hand on the cover of the book and closed his eyes. "They almost succeeded. They summoned many demons."
"Bart was one of them?" Rhia guessed.
"Bart was one of them," Christophe confirmed. The look on his face suggested he'd heard this story before and he didn't like it anymore this time around. "Demons are not of this plane. So they must be called forth. And they are usually easily controlled because of this. They have no physical form in this world. But Bart... Bart had different ideas. Bart wants to find a permanent place in this world."
"Like in my visions," she said, though it was unnecessary. Both Christophe and Cassadore nodded.
"Ohna had heard stories of previous demon summonings, had found written accounts of them. Others had tried, you see," Cassadore told her, taking up the story from Christophe. "So she knew what it would take to stop this cult. She gathered together many powerful witches and set a trap for Bart and the other demons. It was difficult and several of the witches lost their lives. But they managed to stop the demons. After that, Ohna traveled the world, seeking out any written knowledge about demons. She destroyed what she could find. Then she wrote this book and put all of the information she had uncovered into it. It is passed down from one member of Cassandra's line to the next. There have been minor demon summonings over the years, people who want the demon to grant them an easy life. But no one has tried to or succeeded in summoning Bart since Ohna's time. I do not know where this summoner found Bart's name, but he should be considered as dangerous as Bart is. They both need to be stopped. Destroyed, if possible."
Rhia frowned at that. "I wasn't aware you could destroy a demon."
"It can be done, child. But you have to be a strong witch to do so. Very few people who have summoned Bart have lived to see their desires fulfilled. Christophe has told me you wish to help your friend stop Bart. That you wish to play as bait for the summoner. Have a care what you wish for." Cassadore handed the book back to Christophe, who returned it to its place on the shelf. As he did so, Cassadore opened a drawer and withdrew an envelope from it. "This is information that will help you in your quest. Once you have memorized it, you must burn the information so that it falls into no one else's hands. Use a cleansing ritual when you do so to banish unwanted spirits. Share it with no one. And take great care, child. Bart takes great pride and pleasure in destroying magic users. I do not wish to see one so young and talented lost to his darkness."
"Thank you," Rhia said. She reached for the envelope. A jolt of power ran up her arm when she touched the paper. Cassadore smiled at her.
"You have a big heart, Rhiannon Eireen Fitzpatrick. I see great things in your future," Cassadore said, then released his hold on the envelope. There was a note of something in his words, something that suggested to her that she'd just been given the beginning of a prophecy. A shiver ran down her spine. Rhia offered him a smile and tucked the envelope into her bag.
"Thank you." There was a great deal of sincerity in her words. His smile only widened. "And thank you for your time. I appreciate it."
"We will meet again, Rhiannon. Have no doubt. And when we do, I will answer the question you have not yet asked me."
It wasn't until they were in the car and on their way back to Rhia's apartment that Nathaniel broke the silence that had fallen over them. "I don't know who or what Cassadore is, but he isn't just a seer."
Yeah. Her thoughts exactly.
~*~*~*~*~
"The whore is back."
He hadn't heard that voice in some time and had assumed that she'd left him to rot, content to cavort with her demon spawn lover. Apparently he'd assumed wrong. Because the amount of venom in her words led him to believe that the situation between herself and the demon spawn hadn't changed, even with the demon's whore living elsewhere. He was going to have to play this just right if he wanted her help in escaping his prison. Time to turn on the charm.
He finished the last lines of his prayer, then lifted his head to find the blonde vampire standing before the closed door. She was staring at him, eyes intent and mouth pulled down into an deep frown. He wasn't sure if she was upset with the whore or with him. He really hoped that her ire was directed at the whore. Even so, he did his best to look sympathetic.
"Are you afraid that God wasn't listening?" he asked, making sure to keep his tone careful and non-threatening. He was well aware of the kind of damage the woman could deal to him if he upset her further. He had no wish to fall prey to her unnatural thirsts. He still had so much to do. And more and more, he was certain that she was the key to achieving his goals.
"I told you before. God doesn't live in this place. He has forsaken us all." Her anger lashed at him. Had it been tangible, it would have flayed the flesh from his bones. She obviously thought he'd lied to her. He considered his course of action before speaking again.
"How can you be so sure?"
"I told you. The whore is back! My Master has spent several nights of this past week out with her. Several mornings ago, he returned with the wretched witch in tow. She bides her time here as if she'd never left. And my Master fawns over her as if she is the most precious thing on this earth. God does not live here. God has forsaken us. All of us. Including you."
"Perhaps this is not God's doing, but the Devil's?" he suggested lightly. She frowned at him, as if his suggestion was stupid. But he could see that she hadn't considered that angle before now. "I told you the whore is evil. Maybe she used her powers on your Master to convince him to let her return. Perhaps he is, even now, under her spell."
The vampire's face suggested she wanted to believe. But she was doing her best to keep him from seeing that hope. Her frown intensified, her anger making her appear thinner. Harder. More angular. "Why would she leave here if she was going to use her magic against him? Why not just put him under her spell to begin with?"
He lifted his shoulders in a shrug, spread his hands in a gesture to suggest he didn't know why this would happen. "Who knows? Maybe she enjoys playing with his emotions. Why does anyone evil do anything to another living soul? Merely because its something they enjoy doing. They get off on the pain they cause. Maybe that's what the whore is doing."
"I will kill her!" the vampire growled, hands curling into fists.
"Its an option," he began, then left the rest of his sentence hanging. He needed to hook her interest here and now, or else this would never work. The vampire stared at him, waiting. He could practically feel the curiosity building inside of her. It was almost too easy and he had to hold the smile back. He'd never thought in all his days that he'd be making a real effort to manipulate a vampire into doing his will. There was a kind of heady rush that came with the knowledge that he was very possibly going to succeed and he had to stomp it out before he lost control of it and gave himself away.
"But?" she asked when she realized he wasn't going to say any more.
"But what happens when your Master discovers that you are the reason for the whore's demise? If he truly is under her spell, he'll be enraged. What will he do to you if he finds you're the one who killed her? You won't get to be with him that way." He kept his tone light, but fervent, as if he truly cared about what happened to her.
There was no emotion to go by on her face, but he could tell she hadn't considered it before. She'd only been able to see what she perceived to be the obstacle to her happiness and how best to get that obstacle out of her way. She said nothing. Her eyes, though, begged him for help. It had been almost too easy to hook her. Now he had to be careful and reel her in. Slowly, so as not to frighten her. Or make her realize he was using her for his own gain. "You have an idea?"
"I do," he nodded. Then he made a show of looking around to ensure they were alone. To let her know they were conspirators. To make her think that he wanted nothing untoward to happen to her. To hook her even deeper. "There are people who would take her away. Try to drive the evil from her. It wouldn't be easy. And it would take time."
"My Master would still be under her spell, would he not?" she asked. He was going to lose her. She wanted immediate gratification.
"Perhaps for a little while," he conceded. "However, imagine the look on his face when her spell is lifted and you're there at his side. Where you've always been. Don't you think he'd be grateful that you cared enough to watch over him even when he couldn't see how much you cared?"
"Maybe," she admitted. Reluctantly. She sounded petulant. He hadn't convinced her. At least, not yet. But he had one more card he could play. It would be up to her after that.
Just one last bit of information... "I would be willing to tell you how to find these people. How to contact them and arrange for them to take her away. But you would have to do something for me in return."
Her eyes narrowed, as if she'd expected something like this. As if she'd expected it all to be a trick. Her gaze found his and it was only by sheer luck that he kept his eyes from fully meeting hers. He had heard enough stories to know why allowing such a thing to happen was a bad idea. All that was required now was for him to set the bait. He had her nibbling at the line. He only needed to give her something to chew on that she couldn't resist. And he had just the thing.
"It would hurt," he said softly. "The tactics these people would use to drive the evil from her. They would hurt her badly. She'd be in constant pain. Crying and screaming and begging for it to stop. And, if the evil in her was strong enough, the tactics could kill her."
Nothing registered on her face. But he could see that his last bit of information had shattered the last of her remaining hesitation. There was no tell-tale sign, no expression or movement or anything. It didn't matter. She was well and truly hooked now.
"I will think on it," she said tersely, then she turned and left the room.
"I'll pray for you," he said, sure she'd hear him. Then he bowed his head and went back to his prayers. Yes, he would pray for her. Pray that she was stupid enough to believe him. Stupid enough that she would give him what he wanted. And if the whore actually died in the process... Well, that was one less worry to weigh on his shoulders. Wasn't it?
~*~*~*~*~
"Where are we going, Zane?" Minette asked, a sigh hanging on the edges of her question. He was behind the wheel, Minette riding in the passenger's seat. Cherry was in the back. They'd just had a lovely lunch, a spur of the moment thing to get Minette away from her growing confusion where Aedan was concerned, and were now headed in the opposite direction of the Circus. She shot Zane a look to find that he was grinning at her knowingly. She'd learned fairly quickly that that grin meant nothing good.
"Relax, Minerva," he teased. She frowned at his use of her given name. No one called her that. Except maybe her parents. And Zane was certainly not her father. "We're just spending an afternoon away from the Circus."
"We know it has to be really weird to have Aedan back and she's still not really talking to you," Cherry said from the back. Minette turned to look at her.
"This is your way of trying to cheer me up?"
"Yes," Cherry nodded.
"It wasn't necessary. Whatever problem there is between Aedan and I, we'll work it out," Minette replied. She tried to sound more confident than she felt.
"Its been more than two weeks," Zane added. As if she needed the reminder.
"We'll work it out," Minette repeated. Maybe if she said it enough, she'd even make herself believe it. The heavy silence from her two companions told her exactly how much they believed it. "Seriously. You don't have to try and cheer me up. I'm okay."
Zane gave a laugh that echoed loudly with his disbelief. "You're not okay, Minette. I'm going to be frank here. If you were any less okay, I'd start to think you were in love with Aedan. Not in the 'we're best friends and family' way that you love her but in the same way you love Micah and Jason. Like, deeply in love and ready to get married and start a family with her. I don't know what happened to see her pulling away the way she has. I don't care. I don't like seeing you upset. If I thought it would help, I'd get in her face about it."
"No, you won't!" Minette said, tension snapping to life in her voice. She knew exactly how Aedan would welcome that kind of intrusion into her personal life. Zane was highly allergic to silver bullets and Aedan wouldn't have issues pulling the trigger.
"She isn't that big and bad, Minette," Zane shot back, a hint of old arrogance touching his voice that seemed rusty around the edges. She sent him a glance that told him he was an idiot. "She wouldn't hurt me."
"Aedan has no problems shooting anyone who gets in her way. And that includes you, Zane. She wouldn't kill you, because she can't. But she'd make sure you hurt bad." Minette's head was filled with images of the night she and Jason had led a pair of men following her to Aedan's work. She hadn't even let them get out of the car before she'd gotten a shot off. There'd been no time to ask questions, because they'd thrown the car into reverse and burned rubber to get out of there as fast as possible.
Zane started speaking again, prompting Minette to tune him out. He was going on a minor rant about Aedan and Minette didn't want to hear it. It was almost as if Zane felt threatened by her and Minette couldn't understand why he'd feel that way. Instead, she let her mind roll over the past few days. She'd been surprised when Jean Claude had returned to the Circus early one morning with Aedan at his side. No one had explained to her how such a feat had come to pass. And Aedan had refused to be alone with Minette for more than a minute at a time. She was still acting like an icy, prickly, snotty bitch. Minette just didn't understand it at all.
Holding on to a sigh, Minette resolved it was best to stop thinking about it. Aedan was Aedan and she'd either stop being a bitch or she wouldn't. Dwelling on the other woman's behavior wouldn't get Minette anything beyond a serious case of frustration and high blood pressure. In an attempt to shift her focus from the same thoughts that had plagued her for weeks now, she let her gaze take in their surroundings. Maybe she could figure out where Zane and Cherry were taking her.
She didn't really recognize where they were at, but that wasn't surprising. Ever since her arrival in St. Louis, Minette had been busy with the pard in one fashion or another. First had been caring for the grieving members. Then had been discovering her place among the pard and her growth in power. Then had come the coalition. She and Micah had been working tirelessly on so many things. Not the least of which was the lycanthrope murders and who could possibly be targeting members of the shifter community. Thus far, they'd seemed to stick solely to the wolves, but that didn't mean anything. There was no telling if they'd strike any of the other groups. And how vicious they'd be in their attacks.
The only one who seemed to have a handle on the murders, and the murderers themselves, was Aedan. And it wasn't as if she was sharing anything with Minette. Maybe some of the other woman's fuck you attitude was Minette's own fault. It wasn't like Minette had tried to help ease some of Aedan's burden. Between the lycanthrope murders and the demon killings, Minette had no doubt Aedan had been seeing the worst of humanity possible. She no doubt needed someone to help share her load. And Minette had conveniently made herself unavailable in that regard. Maybe Aedan ignoring her was the other woman's manner of letting her know she knew what Minette had done and was paying her back in kind.
Minette had to bite back a sound of disgust. Ugh. This line of thinking was only going to give her a headache. She did her best to shove thoughts of anyone else to the back of her brain and give her attention once more to her surroundings. And it was when she did so that she realized that something was off. Minette let her gaze slide from the side mirror to the rear view. Without looking at Zane, she motioned to a corner up ahead. "Turn there."
"What for?" Zane asked, taking his attention from the road for a moment to look at her. She frowned and motioned again to the corner.
"Just do it. Turn there. I'm testing a theory," she ordered. Zane muttered under his breath, but got over into the right hand lane. His blinker came on and he took the turn. Minette watched in the side mirror. A blue two-door turned behind them. "Now turn left up there," she instructed, one hand motioning to the turn in question.
"Are you okay? You're acting weird," Zane asked, but did as she'd commanded. He got into the turn lane, blinker announcing their action, and turned onto the next road. Sure enough, the blue car made the same turn.
"Son of a bitch," Minette growled
"Minette?" Cherry asked softly.
"We're being followed," Minette told her, her eyes catching Cherry's in the rear view mirror. The other woman tensed. She saw her gaze check the mirror. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Zane's hands tighten down on the steering wheel.
"What are we going to do?" Zane questioned. There was a growl to his voice that said he was getting worked up.
Minette considered it. They could stop. She could no doubt take on anyone who threatened her. She had the power to do so. But this was the second time she'd found a vehicle she was in being tailed and that wasn't simply a coincidence. There was a reason for it. And challenging the people in the other car to some kind of fight wouldn't get them any information. "We keep going. Where ever we're going, its going to be someplace extremely crowded. Possibly with a heavy police presence."
"You don't want to stop and kick their asses?" Zane's voice said that was exactly what he wanted to do.
"No. Kicking their asses won't get us anywhere. And it'll only make whoever has these people following us more careful the next time.
"There's a mall close by. It should be extremely crowded this time of day," Cherry offered.
"Hmmm. A mall isn't really a good idea. Not enough of a police presence. Besides, mall cops won't have the training to deal with anything beyond unruly teens stealing iPhones to piss their parents off. No. We need something else," Minette said, brain turning over what they could do to avoid a confrontation.
"There. That's the perfect solution," Zane said, one hand motioning toward a billboard just ahead. It was an advertisement for a chili and barbeque cook off. And it was being sponsored by the St. Louis police department. It was the perfect solution. And, if they were lucky, Minette would be able to find some of the members of the RPIT squad.
"I hope you guys are hungry. Because it looks like we're going to a cook off," she said quietly.
"Excellent. I'm in the mood for some good barbeque," Zane said cheerfully, then turned off at the next exit. Minette gave a faint smile, her gaze still locked onto the side mirror. She watched as the blue car exited behind them. For a moment, she had a very uncharitable thought. Maybe she should take some of her frustration out on whoever was behind the wheel of that car. It might make her feel better.
But it wouldn't get her any closer to figuring out just what the fuck was going on. Would it?
~*~*~*~*~
"Come on, Micah! We've talked about this until we've gotten blue in the face. We're past talk. We've moved on to action. We need to do something to put a stop to the threat hanging over the community's collective heads. We need to be out on the street, finding these sick fucks and putting an end to them," Isis snarled, her lioness shining in her eyes.
There was a low rumble of sound from around the table. It would seem others agreed with her. He sighed and held up his hands in a call for silence, which came slow and begrudgingly. His eyes slid from one face to the next, letting them all see the look in them. "This isn't our fight, Isis," he said quietly.
"What do you mean, it isn't our fight? They're targeting shifters. Of course its our fight!" Isis replied.
"They're targeting wolves. Which means its Richard's problem. Its his people's problem. It isn't ours. And he's content to leave the task of finding them and punishing them to Aedan."
"They're targeting wolves now. But next it'll be lions. Or hyenas. Or leopards. Will you sit back then and let them keep doing what they're doing? Or will you finally take action? Are you content to let Aedan fight our fights for us?"
Micah sighed and shook his head. "In this instance, yes. If we hunt these people down and take revenge upon them, that makes us no better than them. Is that what you want?
Micah's words, spoken so softly and with such feeling, left her momentarily speechless. Of course she didn't want to be like the people who were murdering her fellow lycanthropes. But neither did she want to sit back and be a victim. Why couldn't he see that? "So we just stand around and let ourselves be targets. That's what you're suggesting. We just wait to get murdered."
"I'm not suggesting anything of the sort. We keep an eye out. We keep an ear to the ground. We take any information we gather and give it to Aedan. She'll find these people and she'll bring them to justice. She doesn't want to see anyone else murdered, whether you believe that or not. She's doing everything in her power to protect us. All of us."
"It isn't enough, Micah. People are scared. Its undermining everything we've built here. Trust is starting to unravel. No one wants to wait around to become the next victim."
"And you think that going after these people by yourselves will prevent you from being the next victim?" he asked, voice light. It did what he'd obviously planned it to do. Everyone stopped and stared at him. Micah spread his hands in a kind of 'look, this is how it is' gesture and made sure everyone was paying attention when he next spoke. "We don't know how they've managed to capture their victims. We only know they use silver and they like to torture people. How do you plan on taking them down when you have no idea who they are or how they actually attain their victims?"
"We can't sit there and do nothing," one of the other said. Micah looked at him and frowned. Isis could tell that he was tired of this conversation. They'd had it time and again and, somehow, Micah had managed to talk them out of doing anything rash each and every time. But his arguments were wearing thin and people were getting anxious.
"How many of you know Aedan personally?" Micah asked quietly. It was a different tact and Isis wasn't sure where he planned on going with it. Most of the hands around the table went up to indicate that nearly everyone of them had met Aedan. Micah nodded his head at that. "How many of you think she'd blame herself if something happened to you?"
There was a soft murmur as the others considered that. To be honest, Isis hadn't really thought about it herself. She was so focused on making sure the community was safe that she hadn't taken much else into account. Isis suddenly understood why Micah was constantly against anyone going after the killers themselves. She was ashamed she hadn't thought of it herself. "She'd definitely blame herself if anything happened," Isis confirmed. All eyes turned her way. "She takes her duties protecting us far too seriously. If anyone at this table was to get hurt because they'd tried to take on these killers, she'd never stop blaming herself for what happened."
There was no need to mention that the other woman hadn't stopped blaming herself for what had happened to Anita that night. Everyone inside of the community knew it. "So what do we do?" came from one of the hyenas at the table. People sitting around the table were a small gathering of lower members of the different groups who were tired of feeling as if no one was looking out for them. They'd been the ones to call the meeting. Micah had agreed to the meeting, as he did with every other one they'd ever called, and told them the same things over and over again. He took his role as head of the coalition seriously and he was determined to ensure that no one came to harm if he could help it.
"What you've been doing. Travel in pairs and groups. Never go anywhere alone. Keep an eye out and be vigilant. If you hear or see anything suspicious, call me or Isis or Richard or Raphael or Aedan. Tell us what you've seen or heard. Let us deal with it. We're the leaders of the community. Let us do our jobs and protect you all."
"Those are pretty words, Micah, but the leopards haven't been attacked," someone snarled. Micah knew he was a low ranking wolf, but not his name. "Just the wolves. No one else at this table has suffered a loss to these degenerates. This is a pack problem to deal with. You're not pack. Neither is Aedan."
"No. But Aedan is a Federal Marshal and this is her job," Micah replied, letting a hint of his power creep out into his voice. His eyes actually glowed. Just a bit. "She's asked us to let her handle it. We let her handle it. End of story. If you don't like that, you can take it up with her. But I will warn you here and now, she's in a very bad mood and she tends to shoot first and not bother with questions later. So really think about it before you decide to take it up with her."
"Are you going to let him just dictate what we can and can't do, Isis?" the wolf looked to her, his frown deepening. "You're as much an alpha as he is."
"Micah is the head of the coalition. And he's here because you asked him to meet with you," she reminded the wolf. She watched as he geared up to say something else, so she held up a hand to stall him. "I know what you're going to say. I was just as angry when I got here as the rest of you are. I was just as eager for blood as you. And that hasn't changed. I still want their blood. I want to feel it rush down my throat when I crush their windpipes in my jaws. I'm just as angry as you are. I hate that our community is under threat. But Micah's right. Aedan asked us to let her handle this. We let her handle it. And she will handle it. And when she does, she'll be the one putting her life on the line. Not any of you. Because that's who she is."
Her words saw them settling as they mulled over everything they'd been told. Much as she didn't want to leave this all on Aedan's shoulders, Micah was right. It was Aedan's job and she would handle it. Even if it killed her.
"We're getting closer to finding them. But they've been very quiet lately, which makes it hard for tips to come in. Because the only time we get tips is when they've committed a crime. They'll mess up. I guarantee it. And when they do, we'll find them. And we'll deal with them. Within the community. As is our right. But for now, try and be patient. Try and wait. Let the authorities do their jobs. Have faith that this will all be over soon."
"Easy for you to say. You're one of Jean Claude's favorites," a voice snarled.
Micah smiled, a terrible smile that saw the weaker members at the table cringing away from him. "Jean Claude doesn't have favorites. Except for Asher and his human servant. It would be wise if you remember that. He isn't above punishing those who go against his orders. Ask Gretchen if you see her. She'll tell you exactly what kind of punishment he can mete out."
The table in the back room at the Lunatic Cafe fell silent as they mulled over what Micah had just told them. Isis studied his face, seeing in it the hints of exhaustion others might not pick up on. She wasn't sure what toll the hunt for the lycanthrope killers was having on him, but it was likely just as difficult for him as it was for the rest of them. More so, because he was supposed to be protecting them.
After allowing them several moments to digest everything he'd just said, Micah pinned each member at the table with a stare. "This is the last time we talk about this. There will be no more meetings about going after these killers ourselves. Anyone who tries will be explaining to Aedan why they feel they don't have to follow her rules. Given her mood lately, you'll be lucky if she doesn't shoot you. Do you understand me?"
There were sounds of assent, some head jiggles in the affirmative. No one dared say no to his face. Not that Isis thought they'd let it go that easily. The entire shifter community was on edge, waiting to see who was next. If the killers were stopped. If someone they knew was going to come home in a body bag. Isis understood their frustration. She understood it well. And now she understood what going off half-cocked would do to those who were trying to find the killers and end their streak.
"Go home. And remember what I told you. Don't let yourselves get caught alone. This includes in your own homes. Stay with friends and family if you can. Be on the look out. If you see anything suspicious, anything at all, call me and tell me what it was and where you saw it. It could mean the life of someone else in the community."
They got up and left in small groups until only Micah and Isis were left. She looked over at him and frowned. She didn't like that he looked tired. This whole thing was wearing on him more than he was willing to let on. "We can't keep putting them off like that," she said softly. Micah glanced up at her.
"You mean you. We can't keep putting you off like that," he replied, his voice flat.
Isis frowned, but didn't deny it. He was right. She was as tired of sitting on the sidelines as everyone else. "I want to help, Micah," she told him.
"Then don't get involved. For whatever reason, this is personal for Aedan. I can't put my finger on it, but there's something about the whole thing..." he began, only to trail off on a sigh. She watched as he shook his head at her. "I don't even know anymore. I just know that she's got some kind of vendetta where these killers are involved. I don't want to get in her way."
"She's on the edge, isn't she?" Isis asked him softly.
"We all are. These killings are much closer to home than we like. Than they really ever have been. And the fact that they started happening so soon after Anita's death... I don't know. She's going to break." He shot her a look, then rose from where he sat. "Come on. Let's go home. I'm tired and I want my bed. I want to hold Minette and make sure she's okay."
Isis rose from the booth and offered him a tiny smile. "You should take your own advice, Micah. Not go anywhere alone."
He said nothing, only gave a nod of his head before motioning toward the door. Isis said nothing and turned to go, hoping like hope that he was wrong about everything.
~*~*~*~*~
They were the last two to leave the popular little diner, straggling out of the brightly lit interior together as if they knew or suspected something. He shook his head. No one suspected. No one knew. If they did...
He curled his hand into his sister's hair and pulled her close to him. "There they are. You know what you're supposed to do, right?"
"Yes," she whispered softly. He thought he heard a touch of fear and petulance in her tone. His fingers tightened down until she whined, her hands coming up to grab hold of his wrist. "Yes! I know what I'm supposed to do!" Her answer came out as a hiss this time, so soft and sibilant he'd swear there was a snake in the bushes with them. He held her for a moment longer, taking the opportunity to give her a good shake, before letting her go. She almost went down to the ground, but caught herself before she could do so. He let his gaze slide to the parking lot and his intended victim.
They hadn't been heard, the two in the lot standing close to the door while they chatted about something. They had to wait, had to be patient. They needed just the right opportunity. Any sooner or later would see their mission failing.
He hated biding his time. Hated waiting. Waiting for that sound in the hall that meant trouble was coming his way. Waiting for that sugary sweet breath on his cheek and the touch of knowing hands and... He broke from his thoughts with a soft growl. When she touched his arm in silent question, he reacted by slapping her. The blow was hard, and loud. It left her with blood trickling from her nose. And his game staring around intensely, seeking out the source of the sound.
He grabbed her hair again, shook her again. "Go! And don't forget to play your part perfectly!" he hissed at her, then threw her from him.
He watched as she staggered from the bushes, her eyes wide and wild as she looked back to where he stood. Then she fell into her role and faced forward, running across the road in bare feet and tattered clothes with blood upon her face and that look of fear in her eyes. The pair in the lot saw her and immediately went on the defensive. They focused their attention on her so completely that they didn't think to keep an eye on the bushes across the road.
They intercepted her easily enough. And she fell into their arms, crying and babbling hysterically. Her act was convincing. It gave him time to bring the barrel of the gun up and take aim. Gave him time to feel a surge of something dark and evil and pleasurable when he thought about what he'd do when he had his prize in hand.
Something went wrong. He wasn't sure what it was. But one moment, he was aiming at his target, ready to fire. The next, his sister was being thrown to the ground. "Run!" someone yelled. His finger squeezed the trigger as his sister sprang up to her feet and he heard a howl of pain as his ammunition hit its target.
~*~*~*~*~
"You look better," Edward commented, staring at her over the table and his steak. Aedan frowned at him and bit into a forkful of her baked potato. "Rested. What's been going on in your life to bring about this change? Last I saw you, you looked like death warmed over. And that's being polite."
She stared at him, trying to decide if this was all an act or the genuine thing. He had to give it to her. She was naturally a suspicious person. She probably suspected that he had a hand in the change he was commenting on. But she was weighing that against his dislike of the vampires and her place in their world. No doubt she figured he wouldn't go to Jean Claude and talk to the vampire about her mental health. But the suspicion was there simply because that's who she was. She shrugged a shoulder and sipped her water.
"Well, I survived an assassination attempt," she remarked. It was done so in such an offhanded manner that he thought for a moment she was joking. Then he realized she was serious.
"Aedan," he began.
"The shape shifting witch and the vampire involved are dead. Not by my hand, either. Jean Claude took care of the witch. One of the assassin's elite took care of the vampire. I'm fine. Just a couple of claw pricks and a lot of chagrin because I didn't even sense them in my apartment before they jumped me," she said.
"Your apartment? How did a vampire get into your apartment?" he asked. He set his fork down on the edge of his plate. Very carefully. Aedan stared at him a moment.
"I expect the witch invited her in before she shifted into a bear."
"How did the witch get into your apartment?"
Aedan shrugged. "She probably bespelled the maintenance staff to let her in."
"Aedan." There was warning in his voice. Damn it, this wasn't supposed to have happened.
"Chill, dad. Its handled. Like I said, Jean Claude killed the witch. A friend of Mischa's killed the vampire. And my ass is back with Jean Claude," she told him. Then she pinned him with a look that would have frozen with fear a man of lesser courage. "Which is exactly where I suspect you wanted me to be."
He might have made comment to her accusation, but her cell phone rang. Aedan frowned and fished it from her pocket, then frowned harder when she looked at the screen and saw the identity of her caller. "Hello?"
There was silence a moment, then Aedan's face went from confused to pissed in the blink of an eye. She was already standing from her chair. Edward fished money from his pocket and laid on the table, following her from the table toward the door. "Wait, what? Slow down. Slow down. Tell me all of that again. And where are you?"
Her caller apparently answered the last question first.
"Okay. Meet me at home. I'm on my way." He might have asked her what was going on but the look on her face, it was bad. He took hold of her arm and pulled her toward his vehicle. Aedan never shot him a look or said a word, which told him all he needed to know about just how bad things were.
Shit.
no subject
Okay, who the hell got shot? You've taken evil to a whole new level with this one, hon. *grumbles*
I loved the whole bit with Rhia and Cassadore! Lovedlovedloved! And I'm glad that we got to find out what happened to the people tailing Minette a couple chapters ago. I was wondering how that played out.
Well done, sweetie. Brava!
no subject
never fear. you'll learn the name and fate of our anonymous victim in the next chapter.
i hadn't planned on that part going that way at all. but then i started writing Cassadore and he fucking took over. so... yeah. we got this. i'm glad you enjoyed it. it was actually pretty fun to write.
i'm getting into the actual plot i've had planned out since... oh, the fic's inception? so that tells you how long i've had this stuff simmering in the back of my head. it should be a fun ride from here on out. *evil grin*
so glad you enjoyed, sweetie. thanks for taking the time to read and comment. <3
no subject
I, of course, loved the whole chapter, but I really am intrigued with the characters of Christophe and Cassadore. Don't know why, but I find myself really drawn to them.
Really interested, too, in how that BBQ turns out. *snicker*
Man, things are amping up rather fast all the way around for everybody aren't they?
*applauds heartily even while mumbling words of hatred and jealousy under her breath, words having to do with how freaking great you write and how freaking crappy she does* ;-)
no subject
Christophe is all Sam's doing. he created him. i just added him to the mix. Cassadore, though, is all me. and, i have to admit, i really kind of love Cassadore. he is definitely more than he seems. and he will probably be making another appearance, if the little nibbles surrounding him hang out to the conclusion of this fic. you'll just have to wait and see.
yes. things are really starting to kick into overdrive now. nothing but death and violence and all that fun stuff.
don't make me hurt you. also, thanks for reading and commenting. <3