The Mary Sue Virus: Beyond Death
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marysuevirusTitle: The Mary Sue Virus: Beyond Death
Chapter Forty Eight: Black and Blue and Silver and Gold
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: you are never going to believe this, but we're now, literally just now, getting to some of the really meaty plot that i've had planned for this fic for... oh, ever? 48 chapters in and we're now hitting plot. i shouldn't be allowed to think so much. cos then stuff like this happens.
The Mary Sue Virus: Beyond Death - Index Link
Jason was waiting for her when she pushed through the back door into the Circus. He barely took note of Edward behind her, instead turning to start down the steps. "Jean Claude sent me up to get you. I'm going to take you to him."
Aedan nodded and followed Jason down the stairs. It wasn't as if she couldn't have found Jean Claude if she'd tried. She could pinpoint exactly where he was in the Circus by using his energy with little effort. That wasn't what this was about. He'd sent Jason as a means of taking control of an already out of a control situation. Let him have his illusions for the moment. It was nothing to her.
She barely took note of Edward at her back, her brain turning over a hundred different possibilities as she made her way to the bottom by memory. Silence pressed down around them, neither of the men with her bothering to talk as they made their way deeper into the bowels of Jean Claude's lair. Even now, still some distance away from everyone, Aedan could feel their energy gathering and growing. It was small and confined, suggesting he was with only a few people. But they were people with strong energies. That pressed against her skin, too, leaving her anxious and jittery. She wanted the soothing feel of her weapon in her hand and it took every last bit of will to keep her fingers from seeking her gun out.
The Circus was eerily quiet when they finally stepped inside, the large door at the bottom of the stairs swinging shut on well oiled hinges. The sense of urgency that had been eating at her since the call had come in demanded yet again that she do something. It had tried to force her to tell Edward to drive faster. It had tried to tell her to skip returning to the Circus and simply go hunting. It had tried to get her to do so many things. And now, it was trying to get her to rush into this without taking a moment to breathe and ground herself.
It would be the biggest mistake of her life if she gave in to that sense now.
She forced herself to walk patiently behind Jason. Forced herself to keep her thoughts from spinning away from her. Forced herself to act like nothing bad had happened. Forced herself to wait.
It felt like it took them forever to walk from the big door at the end of the stairs to the room where Jean Claude was holed up with a few of his vampires and lycanthropes. That room was absolutely silent when Aedan stepped into it, save the hiccupping sobs of one person. Aedan let her gaze slide around the room and land on everyone. Jean Claude was silent and blank, but she knew he was concerned by the way he watched her. Asher was there, a thin blanket of nothing laid over the growing rage just under the surface. For all intents and purposes, he looked calm and collected. Requiem stood against the wall, silent and brooding. But that didn't hide the way his power had tightened down around him in a thick ball.
Vivian and Nathaniel were there, as well, their energy shifted into hyperdrive as they dealt with their own emotions. Aedan fought to ignore the way that energy bit and stung at her skin, but it was hard. Because it was only enhanced by the figure huddled between them on the couch the three of them had taken.
Isis looked like someone had just shot her puppy. Her eyes were swollen and red from crying, her face pale. Her hands were clenched together in her lap and, if not for the swell of energy, it would be easy to forget that she was the Regina of the pride. Someone had spooked her bad. Because this was the kind of behavior that one got from humans. Or members of the shifter communities who had been used as meat for far too long. "Tell me what happened," Aedan ordered gently.
Isis looked up as if she'd missed Aedan's entrance, eyes wide and mouth quivering. Just a little bit. It was possible she was so distraught that she had missed Aedan coming into the room. Aedan couldn't recall the last time she'd seen an alpha so freaked out. But everyone reacted to possible death differently. "He pushed me out of the way," she whispered. Aedan had barely processed the words before Isis started crying again. Vivian and Nathaniel leaned in and offered her their warmth and strength.
Aedan might have rolled her eyes and barked an order at Isis to grow a pair, but Jean Claude's mind touched her own. He didn't have to say anything. Just his presence reminded her to have patience. She shot him a look, then crossed to where Isis sat and knelt down before her. "I need to know more than that, Isis," Aedan said gently. She reached out to put a hand on Isis' fist. "I need you to tell me everything you can remember. Please. Its very important."
"We were at The Lunatic Cafe," she began, voice thick with tears. "We were meeting to discuss what we could do about the murders. Everyone's scared. They want to put an end to things and stop living in fear. So the others called Micah because they're tired of nothing being done about the lycanthrope killers."
"They should have come to me." Aedan's voice was quiet, but the hardness in it brought Isis' gaze to hers. Her eyes were suddenly full of guilt.
"Its my fault. I told them that it was Micah... I'm so sorry."
"The entire community is on edge and they're upset. You didn't do anything wrong. I don't blame you for feeling like there's nothing being done. The authorities have always left the shifters out to dry on things like this. Why should now be any different?" Aedan kept the personal hurt she felt out of her voice. It wouldn't do anyone any good if she let it out now. Instead, she kept herself focused on the matter at hand. "What happened next?"
"Micah convinced them to let you handle the killers. He told everyone that we should remain vigilant, keep doing what we've been doing. Never go anywhere alone. Report anything suspicious."
"He was right to do so. Your community is at risk. And they've proven themselves prepared for your strength."
Isis nodded, wiping the tears from her face with her hands. "We sent everyone home. He and I were the last ones to leave. We were talking about something when we stepped outside, but there was no one about. Nothing seemed out of place or strange. And then, a woman came stumbling out of the bushes. She just... stumbled out of the bushes. Her clothes were torn and her feet were bare. And she was bleeding. When she reached us, she was babbling some story about being in trouble. A second later, Micah shoved the girl away from us. He told me to run and he pushed me. I did what I was told. I ran. I went for my car. There was a sound like gunfire. It brought my head around and I saw Micah fall to the ground."
Isis paused, gasping for air as the tears came fresh and hard. "I should have gone back to help him! I should have done something. But the tone of his voice... He told me to run and I ran. I got in my car and took off. I saw a man join the woman in the rear view. I saw them take hold of Micah's arms and drag him away. I should have stopped and gone back. I should have helped him. What if they killed him? Why didn't I do anything?"
"You did the right thing," Aedan replied softly, trying for a soothing tone. She suspected that Micah had pulled power, using it to force Isis to flee and keep her safe. She'd never heard of an alpha being able to do that to another alpha from a different group, but no one knew everything about the lycanthropes. "We have an advantage in that you called us to tell us what happened. If you'd tried to go back and help, they likely would have taken you with them, too."
"Who did this, Isis?" It was Jean Claude who asked the question. Isis looked up at him and frowned.
"They looked familiar, but I can't place the faces or the names," she whispered. Aedan shot a look at Edward. He nodded and reached into his pocket, then pulled out a piece of paper. Aedan took it, unfolded it, and held it out before Isis. She glanced at it a moment, then reached out and took hold of it in order to pull it closer. Aedan watched Isis' eyes rove over the photo before the Regina lifted her head and stared at Aedan. "They're in this photo."
Aedan pointed. "That one and that one." It wasn't a question.
"Yes." Isis nodded.
Aedan sighed and lifted her gaze to take in everyone else in the room. "This is really bad. The lycanthrope killers have Micah. I have no idea what they're doing to him. But, at this point, I think its okay to assume that they've left him alive. If they'd wanted him dead, they would have simply killed him and left him in the parking lot. They weren't there to kill. Not yet. I don't know why they've left him alive. And I don't have any idea how long he'll remain that way. That means things just got a thousand times more difficult. We need to find him. We need to find him now. Before they get tired of their twisted games and outright murder him."
"How do we do that? And why would they take Micah?" Nathaniel asked.
"I don't know how we find him. Yet. But I'm already working on ideas. As for why they took Micah," she sighed and shook her head. "I don't think that was the plan. I think they were targeting Isis."
The lioness looked up at her, eyes wide. Aedan could already see a fresh round of guilt trying to build. Too bad. She wasn't about to let Isis go down that road. Besides, she had a solid lock on all the guilt in town these days. "You said he pushed you out of the way and told you to run. It sounds to me, based on what you told me, that he forced you. He pulled power and used it to make you do what he wanted. So he spotted the trap a moment before it was sprung. Just soon enough to save you. They took Micah because he was there and you'd gotten away. It was a crime of opportunity more than anything."
"Why would they target me?" Isis asked, trying to wrap her head around it all.
"I have a theory. Most of the information we have says I'm right. We don't have anything to prove it conclusively just yet. But one of the crime scenes I was to was at the house of Terry Shores and his wife." Isis frowned at that. Aedan got the sense that she knew who he was. She turned to look at everyone else. "Terry Shores was a member of the pack. And he was very outspoken about his lycanthropy. More importantly, he was very outspoken about how poorly members of the community were treated. He called himself an activist."
She shot a glance at Edward, a silent question in her eyes. He stared a moment, then shrugged. It was up to her how much information she wanted to share. Frowning, she turned back to everyone else. "What I'm about to tell you does not leave this room. This is something about the scenes that the police are not releasing to the press. The killers gag their victims. And they pour liquid silver into the backs of their throats. At first, I thought it was merely a means of torture."
"But with Terry Shores' death and his activism, you suspect it was a means of warning others to be silent," Jean Claude finished.
"Yes. And Isis is very vocal about the treatment the community gets at the hands of the normal crowd. Micah's the head of the coalition. That, in itself, puts a big target on both their backs. The killers are trying to tell the community that it needs to go back into the shadows so they're torturing and killing the members who are loudest about equality."
"But Isis isn't a wolf," Jason pointed out.
"No. She isn't. Neither is Micah. Which worries me. Because that means that they've completely devolved. The killings are going to increase. Becomes more violent. Messier. And indiscriminate. I need to find them and I need to stop them. Now."
"What do you need us to do, Aedan?" This from Asher.
"Contact the alphas of every group in town. Tell them what's going on. Tell them to be vigilant. But if anyone sees anything... Has any information. Tell them to call me. I don't care when. I'll drop everything to go after them. I'm going to get Micah back."
"It will be as you wish," Asher assured her. She offered him a tired smile and watched as he and Requiem headed for the door.
"Edward?" Aedan began, turning back to face him.
"I'm already on it. I'll call you if I get anything." He went out the door without another word.
"I'll go talk to Richard," Jason said. He sounded like he didn't much like the idea. But she appreciated that he was going to do it. "He'll put the pack on alert. I'll call you when I'm on my way back."
"Don't go alone, Jason." She kept her voice quiet. It was as close to begging as she was going to get. He tossed her a grin, a mere shadow of its usual state of wolfishness, and made his way out the door. That left her with Jean Claude, Isis, Vivian, and Nathaniel. "Nathaniel, I would consider it a personal favor if you would stay with Isis until someone from the pride can get here. And Damian, too. Is he working?"
"He was, ma poupette, but I have already sent for him. He will be arriving soon," Jean Claude told her, then looked at the trio still sitting on the couch. "Nathaniel, would you please escort Isis to Damian's rooms to await him?"
"Of course," Nathaniel agreed. He rose to his feet and held a hand out to Isis. She stared a moment, then put her hand in his. He pulled her up and tugged her after him. Vivian followed behind them silently, Isis' free hand clasped in hers. Aedan watched as the three of them slipped out of the room, visions of a kitty pile filling her head. That left her alone with Jean Claude. He stared at her a moment, then offered her his hand. She didn't hesitate to put her own in his. He pulled her closer and wrapped his arms around her, hugging her to him.
"Thank you," she said quietly. It felt good to let him hold her, to pretend that someone else would handle the bad shit that came their way, even if only for a moment or two. He pulled back far enough that he could lean down and press a tender kiss to her lips.
"Do not blame yourself, Aedan. This is not your fault," he told her, voice soft and tender. She wanted to frown at him and tell him to get out of her thoughts, but it was probably a safe bet that he could see it on her face and had no need to go digging around in her head. "We will get him back."
"Get who back? What's going on? Why is the Circus in a tizzy?"
The questions broke Aedan away from Jean Claude. She stared at the new arrival, a spike of fear tearing through her. Minette stood in the doorway, staring at them in confusion. Merle was behind her, looking unsettled. Her green eyes shifted from Aedan to Jean Claude. "Jean Claude? What happened?"
He gave her a look that was filled with regret. It only made the confusion grow. Minette waited a moment or two for an answer. When none was forthcoming, she turned her attention back to Aedan. "Aedan? What's going on?"
Aedan opened her mouth, but the words stayed stuck in her throat. They were a hard lump lodged there. They made her feel like she was choking. How was she supposed to tell her best friend that she'd failed her in the worst way and let a pair of murderous psychopaths get hold of the man her best friend was in love with? How was she supposed to admit that this was all her fault? How was she supposed to admit that it was all her fault? Once Minette knew the truth, she'd never want to speak to Aedan again.
But someone had to tell her. And it would be better if it came from a friend...
She swallowed hard, tried to push something out. Nothing would come. Nothing at all. And the longer Minette stared at her, the harder that lump became. She couldn't tell her. She just couldn't. She couldn't stand here and watch the light die in Minette's eyes. She couldn't stand there and confess her sins and watch her best friend just... leave her behind. She was a coward. The biggest coward that lived. Because Jean Claude was going to have to tell her. Aedan just couldn't. "I have to go," she choked out and headed for the door, pushing past Minette and Merle before either one of them could stop her.
She had to find Micah and bring him home. Or she'd never be able to look her best friend in the eye again.
~*~*~*~*~
Minette stared at Jean Claude, trying to understand what was going on. There was this dull ache in her chest that she was trying to ignore. That she had been trying to ignore since it had first settled there some half an hour or more ago. But it was getting harder and harder to ignore that feeling. Especially since her instincts were screaming at her that it had something to do with why Aedan had looked at her as if she had plague and then run for the hills. "What's going on? Why is Aedan avoiding me? What's happening between her and I?" she asked quietly.
She watched as Jean Claude's gaze drifted past her to where Merle stood behind her. There was a moment where they stared at one another, then she heard Merle move off. His steps were filled with determination. Jean Claude brought his attention back to her, one hand held out toward the interior of the room. "Please, Minette. Join me."
There was something about his voice that made her want to scream. Maybe some inflection. Maybe just a single note. She couldn't put a finger on it, but something about those four words put her on edge instantly. She stepped carefully into the room, pushing the door shut behind her because she got the feeling that that would be what he said next. One of his hands reached out to settle on her back, then he was urging her toward the couch. She really didn't want to go sit there. Everything in her was demanding that she leave now, before something bad happened.
The two of them settled on the couch. Minette felt small and lost next to Jean Claude. Part of her wished that Aedan was there to act as a buffer. Minette couldn't feel his power, as if he had it locked away from the world for fear of what one might find in it. That put her on edge. She was used to being surrounded by power and energy. "What's going on? Why is everyone acting so weird?" she asked him.
He took a breath, as if stalling for time. She wondered if he was going to tell her or if he was seeking an appropriate lie with which to appease her. But his chest fell as he exhaled and the look that came to his face made her heart ache in her chest. "There has been an incident, Minette. There is no easy way to say this," he started, then stopped and reached out to take hold of her hands. His gentle concern was unnerving her. "There was an attack tonight. Outside of The Lunatic Cafe. Isis and Micah were leaving when they were set upon by the lycanthrope murderers."
She was silent a moment, her face blank as she attempted to process what he hadn't yet said. "They were... I just saw... I don't..." she tried before falling silent for several long moments. Her voice, when it came, was that of a child's. And full of fear. "Where's Micah, Jean Claude? What happened to Micah?"
"They took him," he replied.
She stared. "They... took him? What does that mean? What happened? Where's Micah?"
"We do not know. Aedan believes they were targeting Isis. Micah sensed the trap moments before it was sprung. He pushed Isis away and told her to run. She heard a gunshot. Micah fell. She saw the killers take him."
"She saw them? She saw them and she did nothing? Why didn't she stop them? Why did she let them take Micah? Why didn't she stop them?" Each question saw her agitation growing, saw her power building to a fever pitch, until she was practically vibrating with emotion. She couldn't understand why Isis hadn't helped him. She didn't understand why they'd have taken Micah. She didn't understand any of this. What if they killed him? "Where is he, Jean Claude? Why aren't we... What if... What if he's already dead?"
The last of her words came out as a mere whisper. His face softened and she thought she saw pity there. But one hand reached up to cradle her cheek, his fingers warm against her flesh. "Aedan believes he is still alive. But she doesn't not believe that he will remain so for long. That is why she left as she did. She is intent on finding him and bringing him home. She loves you very much. She will bring him back to you."
His words brought tears to her eyes. She didn't want to cry. Didn't want him to pity her for her moment of weakness. Didn't want to hear falsehoods from him. But the more she tried to halt her tears, the faster they flowed. Fear and confusion were stealing her will, stripping away her ability to filter her words. "She loves me? She has a fucking strange way of showing it!" Minette laughed, the sound dull and lifeless as it bounced off the walls around them. "She hasn't talked to me in weeks. Every time I try to find out what's wrong, what I've done to make her mad, she gives me the fucking ice bitch routine and tells me to fuck off. So forgive me if I have a hard time believing she loves me. You saw her tonight. She couldn't run out of here fast enough."
"Minette," he began, but she cut him off with a look.
"No. Don't make excuses for her," Minette ordered. She was tired of trying to figure out just what the hell was wrong with the other woman. Aedan had never cut Minette out of her life before. Minette didn't understand why she was doing it now. She didn't know what had changed to prompt such strange behavior. But she was tired of trying to dissect Aedan's thoughts and actions. Tired of trying to find a way to apologize for the thing that had pissed her friend off. Anger rose, filling her up until she practically drowned in it.
She was mad at Aedan. Mad that someone who insisted they were family could cut her out of her life so easily. So completely. Mad that someone had kidnapped Micah and was threatening his life. Was threatening Minette's happiness. Was threatening her everything. And she was mad that Aedan hadn't had enough balls to stay and tell her what had happened herself. She'd bailed and left Jean Claude holding the bag. It was unfair and wrong. Minette was suddenly filled with the need to hurt Aedan the way the woman had hurt her. She wanted to be heartless and cruel and petty and destroy Aedan. Just a little bit.
"I don't even know what I did to make her hate me like she does. She won't talk to me. She won't look at me. She acts like I've done the worst thing in the world to her. But every time I try, she runs away. She's a coward and I don't know if I can forgive her for her actions." It hurt to admit that. Aedan had been there during the worst time in her life. And Minette had thought it would always be that way. Now here it was, the second worst time in her life, and Aedan was no where to be seen. How was she going to find Micah? How was she going to save him? What the fuck was she supposed to do? The tears came in earnest then, rolling in fat drops down her cheeks while she struggled to pull air into her lungs. "What do I do, Jean Claude?"
He hugged her close to his body, one hand stroking the length of her back. "You trust in your friend. She will find Micah. She will bring him back to you. And she will apologize to you for everything. Because she loves you. We both do."
The tenderness in his words made the tears fall harder and faster. Weeks of pent up confusion and fear poured out as she sobbed. She wished she could believe him. But she didn't know what to believe anymore. The only thing she knew was that she was lost and scared and she felt like she was going to float away. She needed someone to anchor her to the here and now. She needed the pard, all of them, coiled around her to offer comfort and keep her grounded. But they would look to her for strength and guidance. And she had none to give.
"Merle will tend to the pard, Minette. Give yourself a moment or two to simply breathe and sort out your emotions. I know this must be terribly difficult for you," Jean Claude said, tone low in order to help soothe her battered senses. It should have bothered her that he was pulling her thoughts from her head. She didn't care.
"Will you hold me?" she asked, tipping her head back to stare up at him.
"Of course, mon minet," he promised.
His gaze caught hers and they stared at one another for the space of a heartbeat. Minette found herself hopelessly lost in the depths of his eyes. They were so blue. So intense. How had she never noticed that before? How had she never really taken notice of just how amazingly beautiful he was? She knew, on some level. Of course she knew. How could one not know? But this was a different kind of knowing. Looking at him as she was, she understood how so many women could think they were in love with him. Hell, she could love him. If he'd let her. Maybe even if he wouldn't.
The urge to touch him filled her then, rose up to consume her. Made her fingers itch with the need to feel his skin against them. Made her shift until she was sitting up straighter. He didn't move when one of her hands came up to trace the line of his jaw, when it stroked it cheek lightly before slipping into the silken length of his hair. "You're so beautiful," she whispered. She put so much feeling, so much need, into those three words.
"Minette." Her name came off his lips quietly, a gentle warning. And she understood his meaning perfectly. He was trying to woo Aedan. He wanted more from her than the partnership that came with her being his human servant. He wanted a true relationship with her in every sense of the word. It should have stopped Minette in her tracks. It was an unwritten part of the friend's code. You didn't put the moves on your best friend's love interest. But a part of her wanted to push boundaries, wanted to see if she could deliver even a smattering of the hurt to Aedan that the other woman's callous actions had given Minette. A part of her wanted to see if the promise that lived in his eyes was genuine, if he lived up to the fantasy he presented.
"Please, Jean Claude. I need to feel like someone cares," she whispered. And it was true enough. Not the whole truth, but enough of the truth that it didn't sound like a lie when she said it. He stared at her, still and silent, as if debating with himself.
She needed it. With a sudden, fierce, burning desire. She couldn't explain that need, but it was there. Intent on stacking the deck in her favor, Minette climbed into his lap and pressed herself against him. The scent of him was intoxicating, a subtle mix of death and cologne and leather. "Please."
He was kissing her before that single word even faded into the silence of the room, his hands reaching up to cup the back of her head while he feasted at her mouth as a hungry man feasted at a banquet. She opened herself to him, silently gave him access to all of her. She couldn't stop the sigh that came when his tongue delved into the cavern of her mouth. She nearly melted against him with the feel of his tongue grazing the interior of her mouth, probing it slowly and methodically. Nor could she stop the second sigh that came when his hands gripped her hips and pressed her even harder against him.
She was caught up in the smell and feel of him, whimpered and whined as his mouth drifted from her own to trail across her cheek toward her ear. It was a crime to have that kiss come to an end and she wished he'd go back to plundering her mouth. She gasped softly when his fangs scraped the sensitive flesh of her throat right behind her ear. It was a silent promise that saw her quiver in anticipation. It was also a blatant tease that left her hungry for more. She sighed again when he laid a series of kisses against her throat, taking time to press against the throbbing vein there. At the same time, his hands worked diligently at relieving her of her clothes.
Minette found herself on her back in the blink of an eye, his body stretched out over hers to keep her pinned to the couch. She found she liked the weight of him pressed against her. Her hands explored his back, tracing the lines of muscle there through the softness of his shirt. The material of it rubbed incessantly at her nipples, bringing them to tight peaks as heat rushed through her. He pressed a line of kisses into her flesh, from her throat to the spot where her arm met her shoulder, his back arching up as he did so. This allowed him to travel down over the swell of one breast until his mouth could wrap itself around the tight peak of her nipple. When he sucked at it, the pull of his lips brought an answering pull to life low in her belly, just behind her naval, and saw her arching up into him in response.
Hunger roared to life within her, demanding that she strip him naked and take him immediately.
Her hands carded through the silky feel of his curls, fingers encouraging his mouth to remain exactly where it was. The heat that enveloped her nipple was seeping into her body, leaving her limbs loose and the very center of her hungry for his touch. She wanted him out of his clothes, but that required movement she simply didn't have the strength to manage at the moment.
His chuckle broke the silence, stroked her skin inside and out. It brought about a small orgasm, warmth flooding her from the tips of her toes to the top of her head. It also left her muscles quivering with anticipatory need. That orgasm had been yet another promise, a reminder that things to come would be intense and incredibly satisfying. She'd barely finished riding the orgasm when his shirt was gone and his bare chest pressed hers.
She trailed her fingertips down the length of his spine, hitting every bump and falling into every valley created by the assemblage of his vertebrae, until they reached the curve of his ass. Then she brought them back up so that she could bury them in the length of his hair. At her insistence, he dropped his head so that he could receive her kiss. Their lips met with little fanfare, no tiny, nibbling kisses building into a final, all consuming kiss. Just the press of his mouth to hers, molding and meshing as she ran her tongue along his lips. Let it glide into his mouth and trace the ridges of his teeth. He shuddered when she dragged her tongue over his fangs, sliced the skin open and spilled crimson droplets of her blood into his mouth.
His hold on her tightened and he pressed himself more firmly against her body. His hands moved over her skin, learning the texture of it. Learning which spots made her writhe with need and which spots saw her trying to pull away from him. Those that made her writhe were treated to long, slow strokes that fanned the flames of her arousal higher and higher. She gasped and moaned and squirmed, begged without words for him to touch harder. He avoided the other spots with little trouble, spent his time between kissing her lips and neck and breasts and touching every exposed inch of her flesh until she whimpered and whined beneath him.
"Jean Claude, please," she begged. She wanted more. She needed more. Her body was begging for more. It was there in the way he skin shivered with each of his touches. It was in the way her nipples puckered up until they physically hurt, they were so tight. It was there in the way her thighs pressed together, the desire to have some part of his body inside hers driving her to the edge of the distraction.
"What is it, mon minet?" His voice was rich with knowing and laughter, and his fingers trailed down until they skirted the edge of her pubic hair. For a second, it seemed like they might dip lower. But they moved away, bringing her hips up in a jerk as they sought out his touch. Frustration bubbled up to add spice to her hunger.
"I need you to quit teasing me. I need you to fuck me. Right now," she growled, giving voice to her desires.
The smile he gave her was one that belonged to the devil, filled with decadent sin. The hand that had so recently teased her returned to press her hips flat against the cushions. He leaned down to press a kiss to the skin around her belly button, then rolled his eyes up so that he could look her in the face. "All you had to do was ask."
She had all of two tenths of a second to process those words, then the heat of his tongue was gliding against the moistened folds of her nether lips and all thought leaked from her head in a long, contented sigh.
~*~*~*~*~
The first thing he became aware of was the fact that his head felt like a giant puff of cotton. Which, given his metabolism, wasn't something he'd ever thought possible. Of course, it had taken him a long, long time to realize that the feeling his head was giving off was meant to be something akin to cotton. His brain moved slowly, as if it swam a bowl of thick, clinging soup. Words were a distant thing, lost in the haze and fog that clung to the surface of his grey matter.
It took him a very long time to find his way through the fog so that he could figure out. And it only happened because his head rolled from one side to the other and afforded him a view of the needle taped into his arm. He managed to make his eyes follow the line back to an IV pole, where a bag hung from one of the arms. It was easy after that, requiring little imagination or real brain power, to figure out that someone had him drugged.
Which might have been why it took as long for the pain to reach his brain as it did. When he did finally feel the slow, steady burn at his wrists, his eyes wandered back along the line to his arm, then down until he found his wrist. A bright silver cuff rested heavily against his skin. A slow head roll told to him that his ankles and the other wrist were cuffed in the same manner. It also told him that there was some kind of band or collar at his throat, keeping him from slumping forward.
He tried to recall what had happened that would see him bound like this. His memory was filled with fuzz, and his brain didn't want to sift through the patches of fog in search of any real, tangible memory. There was a bit here, an image of angry faces demanding action. Then fog, thick and heavy to cover over the memory and leave him wondering what it was supposed to mean. Then another glimpse. This time of a bloodied face that he knew he should remember. Another patch of fog. A pair of wide, frightened eyes...
It took what felt like an eternity to piece it all together. He and Isis had been at The Lunatic Cafe, meeting with some members of the community who weren't happy with the fact that no one had caught the lycanthrope killers yet. They'd been angry, had demanded that he stop sitting back on his laurels and tell them how to find the killers. So they could take care of them once and for all. "Can't," he croaked, throat dry and scratchy. "She doesn't want you involved."
The memory didn't seem to hear him. The gathered group had been adamant, even Isis getting in on the call for blood. It had taken him a while to make them understand that Aedan was the one in charge of the hunt, that she would deal with the murderers when she found them. And then he'd sent them on their way. He and Isis had left last. They'd been outside the cafe when someone... a young woman, bloodied and beaten, had come at them from across the parking lot. Something about her face had seemed familiar. Oh, he knew he'd seen it before. It was the girl from the photo Aedan had shown them. But there was something else about her...
He struggled to grasp whatever it was he'd thought when he'd seen her, but it ran away and hid. But he didn't need to have that thought to know that it was some kind of trap. Instinct had warned him and he'd shoved Isis away from him. Told her to run. There'd been a sting then, like the bite of a mosquito, only much sharper and more intense. Then the world had turned upside on him.
The bite must have been a tranquilizer dart. And it had to have held a double dose of something strong, because it had dropped him almost immediately. Had kept him under long enough for... He frowned. Long enough for what? He couldn't recall what had happened after that, only knew that he was no longer in The Lunatic Cafe's parking lot and that Isis was nowhere to be seen.
She must have gotten away. He could hope. He could also hope that she'd managed to tell the others what had happened. That would mean that they'd be looking for him. He wanted them to find him. Tonight. Now. Right away. He didn't like the feeling the drugs left behind. He didn't like being helpless. He didn't like not knowing what was going to happen. He wanted to be with Aedan when she found them, so he could help her tear them apart. That's what she planned on doing, wasn't it? He hadn't misread that meeting that badly, had he.
He tried to recall that meeting, but it was hard. So he tried to summon Aedan's face. Not as hard, but still a challenge. "You're going to kill them, right?" he asked, lips numb and uncooperative. Aedan's image stared back at him, eyes hard and mouth flat. He'd seen that look before. He knew the need for revenge when he saw it. What had they done to her that she wore that face? Right. They'd gone after Minette.
Jesus Christ. Minette. He'd forgotten all about her. How was she going to react when she heard the news? She was going to want to be part of the search party. She was going to want to be part of the group that helped rescue him. She couldn't come anywhere near them. If they hurt her a second time... "Don't let her come, Aedan. Don't let Minette come. Promise me."
"Who's Minette?" a soft voice asked. He blinked his eyes open to find a familiar face in front of him. It took a moment, but he remembered. The young woman from the parking lot. He stared at her, set his lips in a thin line, refused to answer her question. She watched his face a moment, then shot a look over her shoulder before turning back to him. "I don't blame you for not answering. I wouldn't trust me, either. He's going to ask you questions. Don't answer him. No matter what he does."
What did she mean by that? Who was going to ask questions? Why didn't she want him to answer them? She held a glass up in front of him, the contents clear. There was a straw resting against the rim. "Its just water. I promise. I know the drugs leave you dry. I thought you could use a drink."
She put the straw against his lips. He pulled it between them, sucked the water up with slow, steady draws. He probably should have been worried that she would try to poison him, but she was right about the drugs. His throat was so parched and so dry. When he'd swallowed nearly half the contents, she took the glass away and risked a glance over her shoulder again. "I know you're strong. I can feel it. Don't give in to him. Don't tell him anything. I'll do what I can to keep you alive until they can find you. I promise."
The girl had barely gotten across the room from him when a man swept through the door. He stopped short when he saw the girl, shot her a frowning glare that she seemed to shrink back from. Then he continued forward until he stood where she'd been standing only seconds ago. "Where is she?" he demanded, voice gruff with anger and other emotions.
He stared at the man, remained silent.
"Where is she? Answer me, you piece of shit!" the man ordered.
He didn't answer. Because he didn't know how to answer. He didn't know who she was. Was he looking for Isis? She'd been with him earlier. Was he looking for Minette? She was the only woman in his life. What she was the man looking for?
"Tell me where she is or I will carve you up, bit by bit, until there's nothing left of you. Don't think I won't do it." He had every belief the man would do what he said. Hadn't he given Aedan nightmares? He'd seen some of the couple's handiwork. He knew that the man would do what he said. "You can't protect her forever. You will tell me where she is. She can't hide behind her fake family for much longer. And when she comes, I'll show her just what family means!"
He didn't like the look in the man's eye, nor the tone of his voice. Whoever she was, she was in for a world of hurt if the man before him got his hands on her. He wasn't going to let that happen if he could help it.
"Go to hell," he croaked out. "I'm not telling you a fucking thing."
The man stared at him a moment, then nodded, as if he'd expected as much, and turned away. He went for a table nearby, covered with a white cloth. The cloth was pulled away to reveal a tray of instruments. They all gleamed in the low light. His hand trailed over each item on the tray before he lifted up a scalpel. "I admire your strength of conviction. A good man, a righteous man, should have strength of conviction. But you're not a man. You're an abomination in the eyes of God. And you will tell me what I want to know or I'll make you suffer an eternity of agony here on earth."
The scalpel bit into his flesh, traced fiery rivers of pain where the blade sliced. He pressed his lips together and stared down into the other man's face. He wasn't the first to try and torture him. He wouldn't be the last. This was nothing.
He wasn't sure how long they'd been standing there, staring at one another, when the girl stepped between them. He felt the blade leave his skin, though, felt the fire burning where the blade had sliced, and realized that the scalpel had been coated in silver. The girl's fingers curled around the hand holding the scalpel, lifted it so she could lick the blood off the blade with her tongue. He caught the scent of her arousal as it filled the air. Then she was dropping down on to her knees before him. "What are you doing, whore? Can't you see I'm working?"
"I can. And you know how much it turns me on when you're working. He isn't going anywhere. Come play with me," she coaxed, voice low and throaty and full of need.
"Later. Let me continue here," he ordered, trying to step around the girl. She wouldn't let him go, her hands creeping up to press against the front of his jeans. Her fingers made quick work of the fly, opened it so she could slip her hands into his pants. The man's eyes fluttered for a moment as she did something with her hands. He heard the sighing breath that left the man's throat, knew he was going to give in.
"Come play with me," she repeated, one hand retreating from his jeans in order to tug at her own clothing. "Please, brother. Fuck me."
Those words were still ringing in his ears when the man took the girl down to the floor and started pounding into her.
~*~*~*~*~
Minette was almost wild beneath him, her body quivering with anticipation as his mouth trailed kisses down the inside of her thigh. They'd been playing a not so subtle game of tease ever since she'd made her plea to him, voice filled with confusion and fear and need. He could tell exactly how much she needed him, could smell her arousal perfuming the air. Could hear the way her heart pounded in her chest. Could sense the way her thoughts spun and dipped and chased one another around. He let one hand stroke across the soft flesh of her belly before continuing to kiss his way down to her knee.
He was waiting for her to beg him again, waiting to hear her say the words. Until she did, he would work her to a fever pitch using his hands and his mouth. Her skin was soft like silk, and each patch that he kissed tasted like wildness and the deepest parts of the forest. He nipped at her thigh, just before the bend of her knee, and took satisfaction in the way she shuddered. The way she gasped, then panted. The way her hunger and need flared even higher.
He delivered one last kiss to her knee, then turned his attention to the other leg, letting his fingers stroke the underside of the knee there even as he nipped at the swell of her calf. Minette gasped, back arching, fingers curling into the cushions beneath her as sensation coursed through her. "Jean Claude, please!" she begged.
"As you wish," he replied quietly, then rose up until he covered her body with his own. When he settled his hips between her thighs, she shifted them wider to accommodate him. Wrapped her legs around his waist as he used one hand to position himself. He sank into her, slow and steady, her legs tightening around him to help urge him deeper. He didn't stop until he was fully buried within her, her body wet and tight and hot around his cock.
"Fuck," she hissed, back arching into him merely from the feel.
"Of course, mon minet. That is what we are here to do, is it not?" he questioned lightly. Then he pulled back and waited, kept himself hovering over her until she whimpered her need. The sound drove him forward, saw him sliding himself deep into her body once more. She made some noise that was part human and part feline, her fingers releasing their hold on the couch in order to curl around his shoulders. Her nails cut into his skin. She arched her back, drove him deeper. Brought another sound up her throat.
He shifted his hips, rocked forward ever so slightly. The move earned him a hiss of pleasure from the woman behind him. Her body tightened around his. He could hear her blood pounding in her veins, could smell her desire and need pouring off of her. He drew back, pressed forward. Shifted himself in and out just a little more than the last time. She growled at him.
"Come on, Jean Claude. Pick up the pace and fuck me. Don't tease!" she ordered.
"Of course, Minette," he replied. Drew his hips back and held himself above her for just a moment. Then slammed forward and filled her to the brim. She howled out her delight, a hint of pain coloring the edges of her pleasure, and clutched him even closer to her. He'd fully planned on taking his time with her, had planned on caressing every inch of skin and bringing her to the height of pleasure again and again. But her words told him she needed something much rougher, something far more basic than that. So he did as she asked. He fucked her.
His strokes were hard and deep, evenly spaced out for maximum effect. Minette would gasp out a breath when he drove himself into her completely, then she'd have a moment to draw air into her lungs before he pulled back and repeated. Her muscles clung to him, tried to keep him from sliding out of her. Her nails continued to score the flesh of his shoulders. He could feel thin trickles of blood on his back, slipping out of the cuts she'd made there.
That little bit of pain was its own kind of aphrodisiac. He wasn't into pain the way Asher was, but he could enjoy it in small amounts. Those tiny amounts helped enhance pleasure when done the right way. Minette's nails digging into his shoulders was that small amount of pain that made the pleasure spiral higher. Heat built under his skin, a tingling starting where her nails cut through his skin that trailed down his back, that crept around his hips to the front. It pooled in his balls, coaxed more blood into his cock so that he was hard and aching for release. Keeping his pace was becoming more and more difficult as the moments passed.
"You don't have to hold back, Jean Claude. I'm not human. I won't break. You can fuck me hard," she rasped in his ear, teeth catching the lobe. She bit down, hard enough to shoot a little more pain along his nerves. Not hard enough to break skin.
"Such dirty words from such a sweet mouth," he whispered. His hips stayed their thrusting long enough for him to gather her up against him. In the blink of an eye, he'd brought them both up into a sitting position, Minette's thighs straddling his lap even before he'd fully settled down against the cushions. She moaned loudly as their shift in position saw him sliding deeper. "You may want to leave your hands on my shoulders," he warned before his hands curled tightly around her hips and lifted her up. Minette dug her nails in again, only half a second before he pulled her down onto him. Her ass slapped against his thighs hard. His cock drove deep, drawing a loud moan up her throat.
"Holy shit, that's good!" she managed. "Just like that. Keep fucking me like that."
"As you wish, mon minet," he agreed. His hips flashed as he lifted her up and pulled her down into him. She grunted with each upward thrust. Moaned each time he drew back. Her fingers continued to bite into his skin, bringing more blood to the surface. The smell of it was almost enough to drive him to distraction. He had to fight the urge to pound her even harder. If he wasn't careful, he'd break her.
Her body met his every thrust with glee, warm and wet and grasping around his cock. She nipped at his throat, her teeth grazing his skin with intent. Only one of them would be doing any biting this evening, and it wasn't her. Jean Claude lifted his hands from his hips, brought them up her back and took hold of the ends of her hair. Pulled her head back until her spine arched with it. The new position presented her breasts to him. He leaned down and wrapped his lips around one of her nipples even while his hands held tight to her hair and his hips continued to drive up into her body.
"Fuck!" she hissed the moment his fangs nipped her flesh and drew a bit of blood to the surface. She shuddered when he sucked at it, her body tightening down around him. "Do that again. That felt good. Do it again," she panted.
He lifted his head, shifted his focus to the other breast. Nipped at the soft flesh as his mouth closed over her nipple. His action brought saw another shudder rippling up and down her spine. Her fingers moved from his shoulders and once more found their way into his hair. She held his head close to her chest, her breath rasping loudly in the silence of the room.
Slowly, very slowly, he worked his way up her chest to her throat. His hips continued to pound into her, his pace increasing and decreasing to keep her body strung on the edge. He was going to give her an orgasm she'd never forget, one that would leave her so drained she'd have no choice but drift off into sleep. It was the one thing she needed now above all else.
Her head rolled to the side as soon as his lips touched the vein that pulsed with life there. She sighed softly, already anticipating the thrill of his bite. Jean Claude dragged his tongue over her throat, drew a shiver up her spine. One hand slid into her hair, cradling her head and repositioning it for maximum effect. The other arm wrapped around her waist and held her body tight against his own. The move shortened his strokes, gave him more control so that his thrusts were hard and fast. Her heart was pounding in her chest, anticipation building inside of her along with her orgasm. He gave one last lick to her throat, then sank fangs deep into the vein. At the same time, his hips pressed deep.
The heady flavor of her blood rolled across his tongue at the exact moment their orgasms broke over them. Minette stiffened in his embrace, breath caught in her chest as her muscles clenched down tight around him. His cock twitched, spilling his own release deep inside of her. He drank from her, used the offering of her blood to help enhance her orgasm. Only when he felt her lungs struggling to draw air did he pull back.
She slumped in his hold, back bowing until her head came to rest on his chest. Her lungs worked to bring air into her lungs and her hands rested limply against his arms. Her body was limp, letting him know that she was not going to walk to bed on her own. He'd left her right on the edge of sleep and it wouldn't take much effort on his part to push her over. He waited, rising to his feet and shifting her in his hold so that she was cradled in his arms. He would put her in her own bed before he took the opportunity to nudge her into deep slumber. She sighed, snuggling deeper into his embrace. "Jean Claude?"
"Relax, Minette. I am going to put you to bed," he told her.
"Will you stay with me?" she asked through a yawn. Her release was pairing with the stress of the evening, pushing her ever closer to sleep.
"I will," he replied. Until she was asleep. Then he was going to go find his errant human servant and see if he could get her to tell him what was going on with her. Even if he had to use vampire powers to do so.
~*~*~*~*~
The Circus was, as always, crowded with people. Curious tourists who had never before visited a vampire owned business and were there in the hopes of seeing an actual vampire. Locals who came for the games. There were so many of them, it was almost impossible to move around the main floor. Too many people. She had to get away from them and find a nice, quiet place where she could be by herself. Someplace that wasn't below the Circus.
Someone bumped her as she passed, and it took everything in her to both hold on to her temper and keep her feet. Maybe she'd had too much to drink, but she felt she'd had a damn good reason to get shitfaced. It wasn't bad enough that her ineptitude had nearly cost Minette her life. That it had cost so many innocents their lives. Now, because of it, Micah had been grabbed by a pair of psychos on her watch and, if she couldn't get her shit together and find him, he was going to die a horrible death. She would have to live with the guilt that brought. She'd never be able to look Minette in the eye again. Her friend already thought she was a bitch. What would she think if Aedan let Micah die?
Those thoughts had been part of what had driven her out of the room below the Circus earlier. She'd been unable to confront Minette and had hoped, however naïvely, that putting her nose to the ground and finding out where Micah was being held would earn her Minette's understanding and forgiveness. That had been her plan, had seen her in her car and on the road before she could even really think about what she was doing. And then... Then she'd been an idiot and had let herself mentally check in with Jean Claude. To see how things had gone with Minette.
She'd expected him to be holding her friend, soothing the woman's fears and worries. She'd expected him to be doing what he could to help her in her time of need. She hadn't expected to find...
Her brain was swift and ruthless in cutting off those thoughts, stomping them down into the abyss before her heart could shatter anymore. Not that it mattered. Tears pricked her eyes and threatened to fall, which would have totally ruined her 'cold as ice bitch' reputation were anyone to see her crying like a love sick heroine in a badly written romance novel. She had to find a place to get away from everyone before she bawled all over them. But where to go? Her apartment was off limits at the moment, in the middle of an extensive remodel. Downstairs would only be asking for trouble. Was there anyplace she could go where she could be alone?
Her brain spun on the question, trying to find a good answer. The problem was there wasn't one. She had no where to go. No one to go to. Panic took her at the realization that she was literally at Jean Claude's mercy and the tears fell faster. Her arm and shoulder collided with a passerby hard enough that she staggered and almost lost her footing. But a hand was there to catch her and she found herself staring into Janika's concerned face. "Aedan? What's going on? Are you drunk?" she asked, then stopped and really stared. "Are you crying?"
Of course her question only prompted the tears to fall harder and faster. Aedan tried to find a reasonable explanation, but none was immediately forthcoming and she just couldn't tell Janika that she was a miserable, pathetic excuse for a Federal Marshal and she was hurt because she was in love with someone who didn't love her back. That would just sound so lame. "I need to get out of here," she whispered, acutely aware of the crowd around them.
"Come on. I'll escort you to the door and you can go down--"
"No!" Aedan got out, louder than she'd planned it to be. And more forceful. Janika stared at her a moment, brow creasing as a frown pulled the corners of her mouth down. Then she nodded and turned.
"Okay. I know a place we can go," she replied quietly. She moved so she was standing next to Aedan, slipped her arm around the other woman's shoulders, and quietly urged her forward through the crowd. Aedan let Janika push her along, brain switching to auto-pilot in an effort to stem the tide of tears. She hated crying, and she certainly didn't want to be caught doing so over something so trivial as whether or not the man she was hopelessly in love with actually cared about her. But getting her wayward emotions under control was much harder than she liked. Which meant she was still in tears and practically sobbing when they finally stepped into an empty room that held several pieces of furniture. Janika took her over to a couch and, together, they settled on the seats. "We're alone now. Tell my you're crying. And drunk."
That was a loaded question. One she didn't plan on answering. But she had to figure out how to distract Janika from her questions. The problem was there were very few things in the room she could use to do that with. Nothing interesting or unique to which Aedan could draw her attention. No current events she could bring up. Sports were out. What did she even know about sports, anyway? Words were failing her. What else could she do?
It hit her out of the blue. It was an insane idea. But something told her it would work. She just had to...
Aedan nearly lunged forward, her hands coming up to catch Janika's cheeks between them. The other woman had a second to be surprised, eyes going wide, then Aedan pressed her lips to Janika's. There was a moment or two where she felt Janika flailing, arms waving at her sides in confused panic as she tried to decide what to do about this latest turn of events. Then they moved in, hands settling on her shoulders as if to push Aedan away. That push never came.
The softness of Janika's lips was intoxicating. And she tasted like fresh strawberries and cream. She wondered, briefly, what she tasted like to Janika. And what had originally been meant as a means to distract Janika suddenly became a legitimate, all consuming need. Aedan inched closer slowly. Carefully. Until her body was snug up against Janika's. And then she opened her mouth, used her tongue to gently tease Janika's lips apart. A sigh rolled up her throat when Janika's hands drifted upward until they cradled Aedan's face between them. Aedan deepened the kiss, sliding her tongue into Janika's mouth. She pressed even closer.
Her hands slid from Janika's cheeks to her shoulders, then to her waist. Her fingers made quick, if fumbling, work of the fly on the woman's jeans. She found herself filled with the growing desire to feel Janika's skin against her own and needed to see her companioned freed of her clothing.
She'd somehow managed to press Janika down into the cushions on her back, jeans around her knees and shirt bunched up under her armpits, when a hand came to rest on her shoulder. The cold feel of death and the grave spilled into her through that contact and she knew a moment of panic, Aedan pulled away and turned to look behind her, rising to her feet at the same time. She moved too quickly, brain still fogged with drink, and stumbled over nothing. That was how she ended up in Asher's arms, eyes caught by his own, his power stroking against her skin and teasing her own.
"I'm sorry," she rushed, her tongue tripping over her words. "I know I shouldn't have, but she's so beautiful and I needed to touch her and this is all my fault and I'll go. Just let go of me and I'll go and we'll pretend this never happened. Please don't be mad at me."
"Aedan. Aedan, cherie, it is okay. You have done nothing wrong," he told her, voice soft. She fell silent, blinked at him in confusion. Asher stared back, gaze intense and searching. Then, before she could register what he was doing, he pulled her into him until she could feel every inch of him pressed firmly against her body. She opened her mouth to ask him what was going on. That's when his mouth covered hers, his tongue slid between her lips, and he kissed her until her toes curled.
Well, when you put it that way...
Chapter Forty Eight: Black and Blue and Silver and Gold
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: you are never going to believe this, but we're now, literally just now, getting to some of the really meaty plot that i've had planned for this fic for... oh, ever? 48 chapters in and we're now hitting plot. i shouldn't be allowed to think so much. cos then stuff like this happens.
The Mary Sue Virus: Beyond Death - Index Link
Jason was waiting for her when she pushed through the back door into the Circus. He barely took note of Edward behind her, instead turning to start down the steps. "Jean Claude sent me up to get you. I'm going to take you to him."
Aedan nodded and followed Jason down the stairs. It wasn't as if she couldn't have found Jean Claude if she'd tried. She could pinpoint exactly where he was in the Circus by using his energy with little effort. That wasn't what this was about. He'd sent Jason as a means of taking control of an already out of a control situation. Let him have his illusions for the moment. It was nothing to her.
She barely took note of Edward at her back, her brain turning over a hundred different possibilities as she made her way to the bottom by memory. Silence pressed down around them, neither of the men with her bothering to talk as they made their way deeper into the bowels of Jean Claude's lair. Even now, still some distance away from everyone, Aedan could feel their energy gathering and growing. It was small and confined, suggesting he was with only a few people. But they were people with strong energies. That pressed against her skin, too, leaving her anxious and jittery. She wanted the soothing feel of her weapon in her hand and it took every last bit of will to keep her fingers from seeking her gun out.
The Circus was eerily quiet when they finally stepped inside, the large door at the bottom of the stairs swinging shut on well oiled hinges. The sense of urgency that had been eating at her since the call had come in demanded yet again that she do something. It had tried to force her to tell Edward to drive faster. It had tried to tell her to skip returning to the Circus and simply go hunting. It had tried to get her to do so many things. And now, it was trying to get her to rush into this without taking a moment to breathe and ground herself.
It would be the biggest mistake of her life if she gave in to that sense now.
She forced herself to walk patiently behind Jason. Forced herself to keep her thoughts from spinning away from her. Forced herself to act like nothing bad had happened. Forced herself to wait.
It felt like it took them forever to walk from the big door at the end of the stairs to the room where Jean Claude was holed up with a few of his vampires and lycanthropes. That room was absolutely silent when Aedan stepped into it, save the hiccupping sobs of one person. Aedan let her gaze slide around the room and land on everyone. Jean Claude was silent and blank, but she knew he was concerned by the way he watched her. Asher was there, a thin blanket of nothing laid over the growing rage just under the surface. For all intents and purposes, he looked calm and collected. Requiem stood against the wall, silent and brooding. But that didn't hide the way his power had tightened down around him in a thick ball.
Vivian and Nathaniel were there, as well, their energy shifted into hyperdrive as they dealt with their own emotions. Aedan fought to ignore the way that energy bit and stung at her skin, but it was hard. Because it was only enhanced by the figure huddled between them on the couch the three of them had taken.
Isis looked like someone had just shot her puppy. Her eyes were swollen and red from crying, her face pale. Her hands were clenched together in her lap and, if not for the swell of energy, it would be easy to forget that she was the Regina of the pride. Someone had spooked her bad. Because this was the kind of behavior that one got from humans. Or members of the shifter communities who had been used as meat for far too long. "Tell me what happened," Aedan ordered gently.
Isis looked up as if she'd missed Aedan's entrance, eyes wide and mouth quivering. Just a little bit. It was possible she was so distraught that she had missed Aedan coming into the room. Aedan couldn't recall the last time she'd seen an alpha so freaked out. But everyone reacted to possible death differently. "He pushed me out of the way," she whispered. Aedan had barely processed the words before Isis started crying again. Vivian and Nathaniel leaned in and offered her their warmth and strength.
Aedan might have rolled her eyes and barked an order at Isis to grow a pair, but Jean Claude's mind touched her own. He didn't have to say anything. Just his presence reminded her to have patience. She shot him a look, then crossed to where Isis sat and knelt down before her. "I need to know more than that, Isis," Aedan said gently. She reached out to put a hand on Isis' fist. "I need you to tell me everything you can remember. Please. Its very important."
"We were at The Lunatic Cafe," she began, voice thick with tears. "We were meeting to discuss what we could do about the murders. Everyone's scared. They want to put an end to things and stop living in fear. So the others called Micah because they're tired of nothing being done about the lycanthrope killers."
"They should have come to me." Aedan's voice was quiet, but the hardness in it brought Isis' gaze to hers. Her eyes were suddenly full of guilt.
"Its my fault. I told them that it was Micah... I'm so sorry."
"The entire community is on edge and they're upset. You didn't do anything wrong. I don't blame you for feeling like there's nothing being done. The authorities have always left the shifters out to dry on things like this. Why should now be any different?" Aedan kept the personal hurt she felt out of her voice. It wouldn't do anyone any good if she let it out now. Instead, she kept herself focused on the matter at hand. "What happened next?"
"Micah convinced them to let you handle the killers. He told everyone that we should remain vigilant, keep doing what we've been doing. Never go anywhere alone. Report anything suspicious."
"He was right to do so. Your community is at risk. And they've proven themselves prepared for your strength."
Isis nodded, wiping the tears from her face with her hands. "We sent everyone home. He and I were the last ones to leave. We were talking about something when we stepped outside, but there was no one about. Nothing seemed out of place or strange. And then, a woman came stumbling out of the bushes. She just... stumbled out of the bushes. Her clothes were torn and her feet were bare. And she was bleeding. When she reached us, she was babbling some story about being in trouble. A second later, Micah shoved the girl away from us. He told me to run and he pushed me. I did what I was told. I ran. I went for my car. There was a sound like gunfire. It brought my head around and I saw Micah fall to the ground."
Isis paused, gasping for air as the tears came fresh and hard. "I should have gone back to help him! I should have done something. But the tone of his voice... He told me to run and I ran. I got in my car and took off. I saw a man join the woman in the rear view. I saw them take hold of Micah's arms and drag him away. I should have stopped and gone back. I should have helped him. What if they killed him? Why didn't I do anything?"
"You did the right thing," Aedan replied softly, trying for a soothing tone. She suspected that Micah had pulled power, using it to force Isis to flee and keep her safe. She'd never heard of an alpha being able to do that to another alpha from a different group, but no one knew everything about the lycanthropes. "We have an advantage in that you called us to tell us what happened. If you'd tried to go back and help, they likely would have taken you with them, too."
"Who did this, Isis?" It was Jean Claude who asked the question. Isis looked up at him and frowned.
"They looked familiar, but I can't place the faces or the names," she whispered. Aedan shot a look at Edward. He nodded and reached into his pocket, then pulled out a piece of paper. Aedan took it, unfolded it, and held it out before Isis. She glanced at it a moment, then reached out and took hold of it in order to pull it closer. Aedan watched Isis' eyes rove over the photo before the Regina lifted her head and stared at Aedan. "They're in this photo."
Aedan pointed. "That one and that one." It wasn't a question.
"Yes." Isis nodded.
Aedan sighed and lifted her gaze to take in everyone else in the room. "This is really bad. The lycanthrope killers have Micah. I have no idea what they're doing to him. But, at this point, I think its okay to assume that they've left him alive. If they'd wanted him dead, they would have simply killed him and left him in the parking lot. They weren't there to kill. Not yet. I don't know why they've left him alive. And I don't have any idea how long he'll remain that way. That means things just got a thousand times more difficult. We need to find him. We need to find him now. Before they get tired of their twisted games and outright murder him."
"How do we do that? And why would they take Micah?" Nathaniel asked.
"I don't know how we find him. Yet. But I'm already working on ideas. As for why they took Micah," she sighed and shook her head. "I don't think that was the plan. I think they were targeting Isis."
The lioness looked up at her, eyes wide. Aedan could already see a fresh round of guilt trying to build. Too bad. She wasn't about to let Isis go down that road. Besides, she had a solid lock on all the guilt in town these days. "You said he pushed you out of the way and told you to run. It sounds to me, based on what you told me, that he forced you. He pulled power and used it to make you do what he wanted. So he spotted the trap a moment before it was sprung. Just soon enough to save you. They took Micah because he was there and you'd gotten away. It was a crime of opportunity more than anything."
"Why would they target me?" Isis asked, trying to wrap her head around it all.
"I have a theory. Most of the information we have says I'm right. We don't have anything to prove it conclusively just yet. But one of the crime scenes I was to was at the house of Terry Shores and his wife." Isis frowned at that. Aedan got the sense that she knew who he was. She turned to look at everyone else. "Terry Shores was a member of the pack. And he was very outspoken about his lycanthropy. More importantly, he was very outspoken about how poorly members of the community were treated. He called himself an activist."
She shot a glance at Edward, a silent question in her eyes. He stared a moment, then shrugged. It was up to her how much information she wanted to share. Frowning, she turned back to everyone else. "What I'm about to tell you does not leave this room. This is something about the scenes that the police are not releasing to the press. The killers gag their victims. And they pour liquid silver into the backs of their throats. At first, I thought it was merely a means of torture."
"But with Terry Shores' death and his activism, you suspect it was a means of warning others to be silent," Jean Claude finished.
"Yes. And Isis is very vocal about the treatment the community gets at the hands of the normal crowd. Micah's the head of the coalition. That, in itself, puts a big target on both their backs. The killers are trying to tell the community that it needs to go back into the shadows so they're torturing and killing the members who are loudest about equality."
"But Isis isn't a wolf," Jason pointed out.
"No. She isn't. Neither is Micah. Which worries me. Because that means that they've completely devolved. The killings are going to increase. Becomes more violent. Messier. And indiscriminate. I need to find them and I need to stop them. Now."
"What do you need us to do, Aedan?" This from Asher.
"Contact the alphas of every group in town. Tell them what's going on. Tell them to be vigilant. But if anyone sees anything... Has any information. Tell them to call me. I don't care when. I'll drop everything to go after them. I'm going to get Micah back."
"It will be as you wish," Asher assured her. She offered him a tired smile and watched as he and Requiem headed for the door.
"Edward?" Aedan began, turning back to face him.
"I'm already on it. I'll call you if I get anything." He went out the door without another word.
"I'll go talk to Richard," Jason said. He sounded like he didn't much like the idea. But she appreciated that he was going to do it. "He'll put the pack on alert. I'll call you when I'm on my way back."
"Don't go alone, Jason." She kept her voice quiet. It was as close to begging as she was going to get. He tossed her a grin, a mere shadow of its usual state of wolfishness, and made his way out the door. That left her with Jean Claude, Isis, Vivian, and Nathaniel. "Nathaniel, I would consider it a personal favor if you would stay with Isis until someone from the pride can get here. And Damian, too. Is he working?"
"He was, ma poupette, but I have already sent for him. He will be arriving soon," Jean Claude told her, then looked at the trio still sitting on the couch. "Nathaniel, would you please escort Isis to Damian's rooms to await him?"
"Of course," Nathaniel agreed. He rose to his feet and held a hand out to Isis. She stared a moment, then put her hand in his. He pulled her up and tugged her after him. Vivian followed behind them silently, Isis' free hand clasped in hers. Aedan watched as the three of them slipped out of the room, visions of a kitty pile filling her head. That left her alone with Jean Claude. He stared at her a moment, then offered her his hand. She didn't hesitate to put her own in his. He pulled her closer and wrapped his arms around her, hugging her to him.
"Thank you," she said quietly. It felt good to let him hold her, to pretend that someone else would handle the bad shit that came their way, even if only for a moment or two. He pulled back far enough that he could lean down and press a tender kiss to her lips.
"Do not blame yourself, Aedan. This is not your fault," he told her, voice soft and tender. She wanted to frown at him and tell him to get out of her thoughts, but it was probably a safe bet that he could see it on her face and had no need to go digging around in her head. "We will get him back."
"Get who back? What's going on? Why is the Circus in a tizzy?"
The questions broke Aedan away from Jean Claude. She stared at the new arrival, a spike of fear tearing through her. Minette stood in the doorway, staring at them in confusion. Merle was behind her, looking unsettled. Her green eyes shifted from Aedan to Jean Claude. "Jean Claude? What happened?"
He gave her a look that was filled with regret. It only made the confusion grow. Minette waited a moment or two for an answer. When none was forthcoming, she turned her attention back to Aedan. "Aedan? What's going on?"
Aedan opened her mouth, but the words stayed stuck in her throat. They were a hard lump lodged there. They made her feel like she was choking. How was she supposed to tell her best friend that she'd failed her in the worst way and let a pair of murderous psychopaths get hold of the man her best friend was in love with? How was she supposed to admit that this was all her fault? How was she supposed to admit that it was all her fault? Once Minette knew the truth, she'd never want to speak to Aedan again.
But someone had to tell her. And it would be better if it came from a friend...
She swallowed hard, tried to push something out. Nothing would come. Nothing at all. And the longer Minette stared at her, the harder that lump became. She couldn't tell her. She just couldn't. She couldn't stand here and watch the light die in Minette's eyes. She couldn't stand there and confess her sins and watch her best friend just... leave her behind. She was a coward. The biggest coward that lived. Because Jean Claude was going to have to tell her. Aedan just couldn't. "I have to go," she choked out and headed for the door, pushing past Minette and Merle before either one of them could stop her.
She had to find Micah and bring him home. Or she'd never be able to look her best friend in the eye again.
~*~*~*~*~
Minette stared at Jean Claude, trying to understand what was going on. There was this dull ache in her chest that she was trying to ignore. That she had been trying to ignore since it had first settled there some half an hour or more ago. But it was getting harder and harder to ignore that feeling. Especially since her instincts were screaming at her that it had something to do with why Aedan had looked at her as if she had plague and then run for the hills. "What's going on? Why is Aedan avoiding me? What's happening between her and I?" she asked quietly.
She watched as Jean Claude's gaze drifted past her to where Merle stood behind her. There was a moment where they stared at one another, then she heard Merle move off. His steps were filled with determination. Jean Claude brought his attention back to her, one hand held out toward the interior of the room. "Please, Minette. Join me."
There was something about his voice that made her want to scream. Maybe some inflection. Maybe just a single note. She couldn't put a finger on it, but something about those four words put her on edge instantly. She stepped carefully into the room, pushing the door shut behind her because she got the feeling that that would be what he said next. One of his hands reached out to settle on her back, then he was urging her toward the couch. She really didn't want to go sit there. Everything in her was demanding that she leave now, before something bad happened.
The two of them settled on the couch. Minette felt small and lost next to Jean Claude. Part of her wished that Aedan was there to act as a buffer. Minette couldn't feel his power, as if he had it locked away from the world for fear of what one might find in it. That put her on edge. She was used to being surrounded by power and energy. "What's going on? Why is everyone acting so weird?" she asked him.
He took a breath, as if stalling for time. She wondered if he was going to tell her or if he was seeking an appropriate lie with which to appease her. But his chest fell as he exhaled and the look that came to his face made her heart ache in her chest. "There has been an incident, Minette. There is no easy way to say this," he started, then stopped and reached out to take hold of her hands. His gentle concern was unnerving her. "There was an attack tonight. Outside of The Lunatic Cafe. Isis and Micah were leaving when they were set upon by the lycanthrope murderers."
She was silent a moment, her face blank as she attempted to process what he hadn't yet said. "They were... I just saw... I don't..." she tried before falling silent for several long moments. Her voice, when it came, was that of a child's. And full of fear. "Where's Micah, Jean Claude? What happened to Micah?"
"They took him," he replied.
She stared. "They... took him? What does that mean? What happened? Where's Micah?"
"We do not know. Aedan believes they were targeting Isis. Micah sensed the trap moments before it was sprung. He pushed Isis away and told her to run. She heard a gunshot. Micah fell. She saw the killers take him."
"She saw them? She saw them and she did nothing? Why didn't she stop them? Why did she let them take Micah? Why didn't she stop them?" Each question saw her agitation growing, saw her power building to a fever pitch, until she was practically vibrating with emotion. She couldn't understand why Isis hadn't helped him. She didn't understand why they'd have taken Micah. She didn't understand any of this. What if they killed him? "Where is he, Jean Claude? Why aren't we... What if... What if he's already dead?"
The last of her words came out as a mere whisper. His face softened and she thought she saw pity there. But one hand reached up to cradle her cheek, his fingers warm against her flesh. "Aedan believes he is still alive. But she doesn't not believe that he will remain so for long. That is why she left as she did. She is intent on finding him and bringing him home. She loves you very much. She will bring him back to you."
His words brought tears to her eyes. She didn't want to cry. Didn't want him to pity her for her moment of weakness. Didn't want to hear falsehoods from him. But the more she tried to halt her tears, the faster they flowed. Fear and confusion were stealing her will, stripping away her ability to filter her words. "She loves me? She has a fucking strange way of showing it!" Minette laughed, the sound dull and lifeless as it bounced off the walls around them. "She hasn't talked to me in weeks. Every time I try to find out what's wrong, what I've done to make her mad, she gives me the fucking ice bitch routine and tells me to fuck off. So forgive me if I have a hard time believing she loves me. You saw her tonight. She couldn't run out of here fast enough."
"Minette," he began, but she cut him off with a look.
"No. Don't make excuses for her," Minette ordered. She was tired of trying to figure out just what the hell was wrong with the other woman. Aedan had never cut Minette out of her life before. Minette didn't understand why she was doing it now. She didn't know what had changed to prompt such strange behavior. But she was tired of trying to dissect Aedan's thoughts and actions. Tired of trying to find a way to apologize for the thing that had pissed her friend off. Anger rose, filling her up until she practically drowned in it.
She was mad at Aedan. Mad that someone who insisted they were family could cut her out of her life so easily. So completely. Mad that someone had kidnapped Micah and was threatening his life. Was threatening Minette's happiness. Was threatening her everything. And she was mad that Aedan hadn't had enough balls to stay and tell her what had happened herself. She'd bailed and left Jean Claude holding the bag. It was unfair and wrong. Minette was suddenly filled with the need to hurt Aedan the way the woman had hurt her. She wanted to be heartless and cruel and petty and destroy Aedan. Just a little bit.
"I don't even know what I did to make her hate me like she does. She won't talk to me. She won't look at me. She acts like I've done the worst thing in the world to her. But every time I try, she runs away. She's a coward and I don't know if I can forgive her for her actions." It hurt to admit that. Aedan had been there during the worst time in her life. And Minette had thought it would always be that way. Now here it was, the second worst time in her life, and Aedan was no where to be seen. How was she going to find Micah? How was she going to save him? What the fuck was she supposed to do? The tears came in earnest then, rolling in fat drops down her cheeks while she struggled to pull air into her lungs. "What do I do, Jean Claude?"
He hugged her close to his body, one hand stroking the length of her back. "You trust in your friend. She will find Micah. She will bring him back to you. And she will apologize to you for everything. Because she loves you. We both do."
The tenderness in his words made the tears fall harder and faster. Weeks of pent up confusion and fear poured out as she sobbed. She wished she could believe him. But she didn't know what to believe anymore. The only thing she knew was that she was lost and scared and she felt like she was going to float away. She needed someone to anchor her to the here and now. She needed the pard, all of them, coiled around her to offer comfort and keep her grounded. But they would look to her for strength and guidance. And she had none to give.
"Merle will tend to the pard, Minette. Give yourself a moment or two to simply breathe and sort out your emotions. I know this must be terribly difficult for you," Jean Claude said, tone low in order to help soothe her battered senses. It should have bothered her that he was pulling her thoughts from her head. She didn't care.
"Will you hold me?" she asked, tipping her head back to stare up at him.
"Of course, mon minet," he promised.
His gaze caught hers and they stared at one another for the space of a heartbeat. Minette found herself hopelessly lost in the depths of his eyes. They were so blue. So intense. How had she never noticed that before? How had she never really taken notice of just how amazingly beautiful he was? She knew, on some level. Of course she knew. How could one not know? But this was a different kind of knowing. Looking at him as she was, she understood how so many women could think they were in love with him. Hell, she could love him. If he'd let her. Maybe even if he wouldn't.
The urge to touch him filled her then, rose up to consume her. Made her fingers itch with the need to feel his skin against them. Made her shift until she was sitting up straighter. He didn't move when one of her hands came up to trace the line of his jaw, when it stroked it cheek lightly before slipping into the silken length of his hair. "You're so beautiful," she whispered. She put so much feeling, so much need, into those three words.
"Minette." Her name came off his lips quietly, a gentle warning. And she understood his meaning perfectly. He was trying to woo Aedan. He wanted more from her than the partnership that came with her being his human servant. He wanted a true relationship with her in every sense of the word. It should have stopped Minette in her tracks. It was an unwritten part of the friend's code. You didn't put the moves on your best friend's love interest. But a part of her wanted to push boundaries, wanted to see if she could deliver even a smattering of the hurt to Aedan that the other woman's callous actions had given Minette. A part of her wanted to see if the promise that lived in his eyes was genuine, if he lived up to the fantasy he presented.
"Please, Jean Claude. I need to feel like someone cares," she whispered. And it was true enough. Not the whole truth, but enough of the truth that it didn't sound like a lie when she said it. He stared at her, still and silent, as if debating with himself.
She needed it. With a sudden, fierce, burning desire. She couldn't explain that need, but it was there. Intent on stacking the deck in her favor, Minette climbed into his lap and pressed herself against him. The scent of him was intoxicating, a subtle mix of death and cologne and leather. "Please."
He was kissing her before that single word even faded into the silence of the room, his hands reaching up to cup the back of her head while he feasted at her mouth as a hungry man feasted at a banquet. She opened herself to him, silently gave him access to all of her. She couldn't stop the sigh that came when his tongue delved into the cavern of her mouth. She nearly melted against him with the feel of his tongue grazing the interior of her mouth, probing it slowly and methodically. Nor could she stop the second sigh that came when his hands gripped her hips and pressed her even harder against him.
She was caught up in the smell and feel of him, whimpered and whined as his mouth drifted from her own to trail across her cheek toward her ear. It was a crime to have that kiss come to an end and she wished he'd go back to plundering her mouth. She gasped softly when his fangs scraped the sensitive flesh of her throat right behind her ear. It was a silent promise that saw her quiver in anticipation. It was also a blatant tease that left her hungry for more. She sighed again when he laid a series of kisses against her throat, taking time to press against the throbbing vein there. At the same time, his hands worked diligently at relieving her of her clothes.
Minette found herself on her back in the blink of an eye, his body stretched out over hers to keep her pinned to the couch. She found she liked the weight of him pressed against her. Her hands explored his back, tracing the lines of muscle there through the softness of his shirt. The material of it rubbed incessantly at her nipples, bringing them to tight peaks as heat rushed through her. He pressed a line of kisses into her flesh, from her throat to the spot where her arm met her shoulder, his back arching up as he did so. This allowed him to travel down over the swell of one breast until his mouth could wrap itself around the tight peak of her nipple. When he sucked at it, the pull of his lips brought an answering pull to life low in her belly, just behind her naval, and saw her arching up into him in response.
Hunger roared to life within her, demanding that she strip him naked and take him immediately.
Her hands carded through the silky feel of his curls, fingers encouraging his mouth to remain exactly where it was. The heat that enveloped her nipple was seeping into her body, leaving her limbs loose and the very center of her hungry for his touch. She wanted him out of his clothes, but that required movement she simply didn't have the strength to manage at the moment.
His chuckle broke the silence, stroked her skin inside and out. It brought about a small orgasm, warmth flooding her from the tips of her toes to the top of her head. It also left her muscles quivering with anticipatory need. That orgasm had been yet another promise, a reminder that things to come would be intense and incredibly satisfying. She'd barely finished riding the orgasm when his shirt was gone and his bare chest pressed hers.
She trailed her fingertips down the length of his spine, hitting every bump and falling into every valley created by the assemblage of his vertebrae, until they reached the curve of his ass. Then she brought them back up so that she could bury them in the length of his hair. At her insistence, he dropped his head so that he could receive her kiss. Their lips met with little fanfare, no tiny, nibbling kisses building into a final, all consuming kiss. Just the press of his mouth to hers, molding and meshing as she ran her tongue along his lips. Let it glide into his mouth and trace the ridges of his teeth. He shuddered when she dragged her tongue over his fangs, sliced the skin open and spilled crimson droplets of her blood into his mouth.
His hold on her tightened and he pressed himself more firmly against her body. His hands moved over her skin, learning the texture of it. Learning which spots made her writhe with need and which spots saw her trying to pull away from him. Those that made her writhe were treated to long, slow strokes that fanned the flames of her arousal higher and higher. She gasped and moaned and squirmed, begged without words for him to touch harder. He avoided the other spots with little trouble, spent his time between kissing her lips and neck and breasts and touching every exposed inch of her flesh until she whimpered and whined beneath him.
"Jean Claude, please," she begged. She wanted more. She needed more. Her body was begging for more. It was there in the way he skin shivered with each of his touches. It was in the way her nipples puckered up until they physically hurt, they were so tight. It was there in the way her thighs pressed together, the desire to have some part of his body inside hers driving her to the edge of the distraction.
"What is it, mon minet?" His voice was rich with knowing and laughter, and his fingers trailed down until they skirted the edge of her pubic hair. For a second, it seemed like they might dip lower. But they moved away, bringing her hips up in a jerk as they sought out his touch. Frustration bubbled up to add spice to her hunger.
"I need you to quit teasing me. I need you to fuck me. Right now," she growled, giving voice to her desires.
The smile he gave her was one that belonged to the devil, filled with decadent sin. The hand that had so recently teased her returned to press her hips flat against the cushions. He leaned down to press a kiss to the skin around her belly button, then rolled his eyes up so that he could look her in the face. "All you had to do was ask."
She had all of two tenths of a second to process those words, then the heat of his tongue was gliding against the moistened folds of her nether lips and all thought leaked from her head in a long, contented sigh.
~*~*~*~*~
The first thing he became aware of was the fact that his head felt like a giant puff of cotton. Which, given his metabolism, wasn't something he'd ever thought possible. Of course, it had taken him a long, long time to realize that the feeling his head was giving off was meant to be something akin to cotton. His brain moved slowly, as if it swam a bowl of thick, clinging soup. Words were a distant thing, lost in the haze and fog that clung to the surface of his grey matter.
It took him a very long time to find his way through the fog so that he could figure out. And it only happened because his head rolled from one side to the other and afforded him a view of the needle taped into his arm. He managed to make his eyes follow the line back to an IV pole, where a bag hung from one of the arms. It was easy after that, requiring little imagination or real brain power, to figure out that someone had him drugged.
Which might have been why it took as long for the pain to reach his brain as it did. When he did finally feel the slow, steady burn at his wrists, his eyes wandered back along the line to his arm, then down until he found his wrist. A bright silver cuff rested heavily against his skin. A slow head roll told to him that his ankles and the other wrist were cuffed in the same manner. It also told him that there was some kind of band or collar at his throat, keeping him from slumping forward.
He tried to recall what had happened that would see him bound like this. His memory was filled with fuzz, and his brain didn't want to sift through the patches of fog in search of any real, tangible memory. There was a bit here, an image of angry faces demanding action. Then fog, thick and heavy to cover over the memory and leave him wondering what it was supposed to mean. Then another glimpse. This time of a bloodied face that he knew he should remember. Another patch of fog. A pair of wide, frightened eyes...
It took what felt like an eternity to piece it all together. He and Isis had been at The Lunatic Cafe, meeting with some members of the community who weren't happy with the fact that no one had caught the lycanthrope killers yet. They'd been angry, had demanded that he stop sitting back on his laurels and tell them how to find the killers. So they could take care of them once and for all. "Can't," he croaked, throat dry and scratchy. "She doesn't want you involved."
The memory didn't seem to hear him. The gathered group had been adamant, even Isis getting in on the call for blood. It had taken him a while to make them understand that Aedan was the one in charge of the hunt, that she would deal with the murderers when she found them. And then he'd sent them on their way. He and Isis had left last. They'd been outside the cafe when someone... a young woman, bloodied and beaten, had come at them from across the parking lot. Something about her face had seemed familiar. Oh, he knew he'd seen it before. It was the girl from the photo Aedan had shown them. But there was something else about her...
He struggled to grasp whatever it was he'd thought when he'd seen her, but it ran away and hid. But he didn't need to have that thought to know that it was some kind of trap. Instinct had warned him and he'd shoved Isis away from him. Told her to run. There'd been a sting then, like the bite of a mosquito, only much sharper and more intense. Then the world had turned upside on him.
The bite must have been a tranquilizer dart. And it had to have held a double dose of something strong, because it had dropped him almost immediately. Had kept him under long enough for... He frowned. Long enough for what? He couldn't recall what had happened after that, only knew that he was no longer in The Lunatic Cafe's parking lot and that Isis was nowhere to be seen.
She must have gotten away. He could hope. He could also hope that she'd managed to tell the others what had happened. That would mean that they'd be looking for him. He wanted them to find him. Tonight. Now. Right away. He didn't like the feeling the drugs left behind. He didn't like being helpless. He didn't like not knowing what was going to happen. He wanted to be with Aedan when she found them, so he could help her tear them apart. That's what she planned on doing, wasn't it? He hadn't misread that meeting that badly, had he.
He tried to recall that meeting, but it was hard. So he tried to summon Aedan's face. Not as hard, but still a challenge. "You're going to kill them, right?" he asked, lips numb and uncooperative. Aedan's image stared back at him, eyes hard and mouth flat. He'd seen that look before. He knew the need for revenge when he saw it. What had they done to her that she wore that face? Right. They'd gone after Minette.
Jesus Christ. Minette. He'd forgotten all about her. How was she going to react when she heard the news? She was going to want to be part of the search party. She was going to want to be part of the group that helped rescue him. She couldn't come anywhere near them. If they hurt her a second time... "Don't let her come, Aedan. Don't let Minette come. Promise me."
"Who's Minette?" a soft voice asked. He blinked his eyes open to find a familiar face in front of him. It took a moment, but he remembered. The young woman from the parking lot. He stared at her, set his lips in a thin line, refused to answer her question. She watched his face a moment, then shot a look over her shoulder before turning back to him. "I don't blame you for not answering. I wouldn't trust me, either. He's going to ask you questions. Don't answer him. No matter what he does."
What did she mean by that? Who was going to ask questions? Why didn't she want him to answer them? She held a glass up in front of him, the contents clear. There was a straw resting against the rim. "Its just water. I promise. I know the drugs leave you dry. I thought you could use a drink."
She put the straw against his lips. He pulled it between them, sucked the water up with slow, steady draws. He probably should have been worried that she would try to poison him, but she was right about the drugs. His throat was so parched and so dry. When he'd swallowed nearly half the contents, she took the glass away and risked a glance over her shoulder again. "I know you're strong. I can feel it. Don't give in to him. Don't tell him anything. I'll do what I can to keep you alive until they can find you. I promise."
The girl had barely gotten across the room from him when a man swept through the door. He stopped short when he saw the girl, shot her a frowning glare that she seemed to shrink back from. Then he continued forward until he stood where she'd been standing only seconds ago. "Where is she?" he demanded, voice gruff with anger and other emotions.
He stared at the man, remained silent.
"Where is she? Answer me, you piece of shit!" the man ordered.
He didn't answer. Because he didn't know how to answer. He didn't know who she was. Was he looking for Isis? She'd been with him earlier. Was he looking for Minette? She was the only woman in his life. What she was the man looking for?
"Tell me where she is or I will carve you up, bit by bit, until there's nothing left of you. Don't think I won't do it." He had every belief the man would do what he said. Hadn't he given Aedan nightmares? He'd seen some of the couple's handiwork. He knew that the man would do what he said. "You can't protect her forever. You will tell me where she is. She can't hide behind her fake family for much longer. And when she comes, I'll show her just what family means!"
He didn't like the look in the man's eye, nor the tone of his voice. Whoever she was, she was in for a world of hurt if the man before him got his hands on her. He wasn't going to let that happen if he could help it.
"Go to hell," he croaked out. "I'm not telling you a fucking thing."
The man stared at him a moment, then nodded, as if he'd expected as much, and turned away. He went for a table nearby, covered with a white cloth. The cloth was pulled away to reveal a tray of instruments. They all gleamed in the low light. His hand trailed over each item on the tray before he lifted up a scalpel. "I admire your strength of conviction. A good man, a righteous man, should have strength of conviction. But you're not a man. You're an abomination in the eyes of God. And you will tell me what I want to know or I'll make you suffer an eternity of agony here on earth."
The scalpel bit into his flesh, traced fiery rivers of pain where the blade sliced. He pressed his lips together and stared down into the other man's face. He wasn't the first to try and torture him. He wouldn't be the last. This was nothing.
He wasn't sure how long they'd been standing there, staring at one another, when the girl stepped between them. He felt the blade leave his skin, though, felt the fire burning where the blade had sliced, and realized that the scalpel had been coated in silver. The girl's fingers curled around the hand holding the scalpel, lifted it so she could lick the blood off the blade with her tongue. He caught the scent of her arousal as it filled the air. Then she was dropping down on to her knees before him. "What are you doing, whore? Can't you see I'm working?"
"I can. And you know how much it turns me on when you're working. He isn't going anywhere. Come play with me," she coaxed, voice low and throaty and full of need.
"Later. Let me continue here," he ordered, trying to step around the girl. She wouldn't let him go, her hands creeping up to press against the front of his jeans. Her fingers made quick work of the fly, opened it so she could slip her hands into his pants. The man's eyes fluttered for a moment as she did something with her hands. He heard the sighing breath that left the man's throat, knew he was going to give in.
"Come play with me," she repeated, one hand retreating from his jeans in order to tug at her own clothing. "Please, brother. Fuck me."
Those words were still ringing in his ears when the man took the girl down to the floor and started pounding into her.
~*~*~*~*~
Minette was almost wild beneath him, her body quivering with anticipation as his mouth trailed kisses down the inside of her thigh. They'd been playing a not so subtle game of tease ever since she'd made her plea to him, voice filled with confusion and fear and need. He could tell exactly how much she needed him, could smell her arousal perfuming the air. Could hear the way her heart pounded in her chest. Could sense the way her thoughts spun and dipped and chased one another around. He let one hand stroke across the soft flesh of her belly before continuing to kiss his way down to her knee.
He was waiting for her to beg him again, waiting to hear her say the words. Until she did, he would work her to a fever pitch using his hands and his mouth. Her skin was soft like silk, and each patch that he kissed tasted like wildness and the deepest parts of the forest. He nipped at her thigh, just before the bend of her knee, and took satisfaction in the way she shuddered. The way she gasped, then panted. The way her hunger and need flared even higher.
He delivered one last kiss to her knee, then turned his attention to the other leg, letting his fingers stroke the underside of the knee there even as he nipped at the swell of her calf. Minette gasped, back arching, fingers curling into the cushions beneath her as sensation coursed through her. "Jean Claude, please!" she begged.
"As you wish," he replied quietly, then rose up until he covered her body with his own. When he settled his hips between her thighs, she shifted them wider to accommodate him. Wrapped her legs around his waist as he used one hand to position himself. He sank into her, slow and steady, her legs tightening around him to help urge him deeper. He didn't stop until he was fully buried within her, her body wet and tight and hot around his cock.
"Fuck," she hissed, back arching into him merely from the feel.
"Of course, mon minet. That is what we are here to do, is it not?" he questioned lightly. Then he pulled back and waited, kept himself hovering over her until she whimpered her need. The sound drove him forward, saw him sliding himself deep into her body once more. She made some noise that was part human and part feline, her fingers releasing their hold on the couch in order to curl around his shoulders. Her nails cut into his skin. She arched her back, drove him deeper. Brought another sound up her throat.
He shifted his hips, rocked forward ever so slightly. The move earned him a hiss of pleasure from the woman behind him. Her body tightened around his. He could hear her blood pounding in her veins, could smell her desire and need pouring off of her. He drew back, pressed forward. Shifted himself in and out just a little more than the last time. She growled at him.
"Come on, Jean Claude. Pick up the pace and fuck me. Don't tease!" she ordered.
"Of course, Minette," he replied. Drew his hips back and held himself above her for just a moment. Then slammed forward and filled her to the brim. She howled out her delight, a hint of pain coloring the edges of her pleasure, and clutched him even closer to her. He'd fully planned on taking his time with her, had planned on caressing every inch of skin and bringing her to the height of pleasure again and again. But her words told him she needed something much rougher, something far more basic than that. So he did as she asked. He fucked her.
His strokes were hard and deep, evenly spaced out for maximum effect. Minette would gasp out a breath when he drove himself into her completely, then she'd have a moment to draw air into her lungs before he pulled back and repeated. Her muscles clung to him, tried to keep him from sliding out of her. Her nails continued to score the flesh of his shoulders. He could feel thin trickles of blood on his back, slipping out of the cuts she'd made there.
That little bit of pain was its own kind of aphrodisiac. He wasn't into pain the way Asher was, but he could enjoy it in small amounts. Those tiny amounts helped enhance pleasure when done the right way. Minette's nails digging into his shoulders was that small amount of pain that made the pleasure spiral higher. Heat built under his skin, a tingling starting where her nails cut through his skin that trailed down his back, that crept around his hips to the front. It pooled in his balls, coaxed more blood into his cock so that he was hard and aching for release. Keeping his pace was becoming more and more difficult as the moments passed.
"You don't have to hold back, Jean Claude. I'm not human. I won't break. You can fuck me hard," she rasped in his ear, teeth catching the lobe. She bit down, hard enough to shoot a little more pain along his nerves. Not hard enough to break skin.
"Such dirty words from such a sweet mouth," he whispered. His hips stayed their thrusting long enough for him to gather her up against him. In the blink of an eye, he'd brought them both up into a sitting position, Minette's thighs straddling his lap even before he'd fully settled down against the cushions. She moaned loudly as their shift in position saw him sliding deeper. "You may want to leave your hands on my shoulders," he warned before his hands curled tightly around her hips and lifted her up. Minette dug her nails in again, only half a second before he pulled her down onto him. Her ass slapped against his thighs hard. His cock drove deep, drawing a loud moan up her throat.
"Holy shit, that's good!" she managed. "Just like that. Keep fucking me like that."
"As you wish, mon minet," he agreed. His hips flashed as he lifted her up and pulled her down into him. She grunted with each upward thrust. Moaned each time he drew back. Her fingers continued to bite into his skin, bringing more blood to the surface. The smell of it was almost enough to drive him to distraction. He had to fight the urge to pound her even harder. If he wasn't careful, he'd break her.
Her body met his every thrust with glee, warm and wet and grasping around his cock. She nipped at his throat, her teeth grazing his skin with intent. Only one of them would be doing any biting this evening, and it wasn't her. Jean Claude lifted his hands from his hips, brought them up her back and took hold of the ends of her hair. Pulled her head back until her spine arched with it. The new position presented her breasts to him. He leaned down and wrapped his lips around one of her nipples even while his hands held tight to her hair and his hips continued to drive up into her body.
"Fuck!" she hissed the moment his fangs nipped her flesh and drew a bit of blood to the surface. She shuddered when he sucked at it, her body tightening down around him. "Do that again. That felt good. Do it again," she panted.
He lifted his head, shifted his focus to the other breast. Nipped at the soft flesh as his mouth closed over her nipple. His action brought saw another shudder rippling up and down her spine. Her fingers moved from his shoulders and once more found their way into his hair. She held his head close to her chest, her breath rasping loudly in the silence of the room.
Slowly, very slowly, he worked his way up her chest to her throat. His hips continued to pound into her, his pace increasing and decreasing to keep her body strung on the edge. He was going to give her an orgasm she'd never forget, one that would leave her so drained she'd have no choice but drift off into sleep. It was the one thing she needed now above all else.
Her head rolled to the side as soon as his lips touched the vein that pulsed with life there. She sighed softly, already anticipating the thrill of his bite. Jean Claude dragged his tongue over her throat, drew a shiver up her spine. One hand slid into her hair, cradling her head and repositioning it for maximum effect. The other arm wrapped around her waist and held her body tight against his own. The move shortened his strokes, gave him more control so that his thrusts were hard and fast. Her heart was pounding in her chest, anticipation building inside of her along with her orgasm. He gave one last lick to her throat, then sank fangs deep into the vein. At the same time, his hips pressed deep.
The heady flavor of her blood rolled across his tongue at the exact moment their orgasms broke over them. Minette stiffened in his embrace, breath caught in her chest as her muscles clenched down tight around him. His cock twitched, spilling his own release deep inside of her. He drank from her, used the offering of her blood to help enhance her orgasm. Only when he felt her lungs struggling to draw air did he pull back.
She slumped in his hold, back bowing until her head came to rest on his chest. Her lungs worked to bring air into her lungs and her hands rested limply against his arms. Her body was limp, letting him know that she was not going to walk to bed on her own. He'd left her right on the edge of sleep and it wouldn't take much effort on his part to push her over. He waited, rising to his feet and shifting her in his hold so that she was cradled in his arms. He would put her in her own bed before he took the opportunity to nudge her into deep slumber. She sighed, snuggling deeper into his embrace. "Jean Claude?"
"Relax, Minette. I am going to put you to bed," he told her.
"Will you stay with me?" she asked through a yawn. Her release was pairing with the stress of the evening, pushing her ever closer to sleep.
"I will," he replied. Until she was asleep. Then he was going to go find his errant human servant and see if he could get her to tell him what was going on with her. Even if he had to use vampire powers to do so.
~*~*~*~*~
The Circus was, as always, crowded with people. Curious tourists who had never before visited a vampire owned business and were there in the hopes of seeing an actual vampire. Locals who came for the games. There were so many of them, it was almost impossible to move around the main floor. Too many people. She had to get away from them and find a nice, quiet place where she could be by herself. Someplace that wasn't below the Circus.
Someone bumped her as she passed, and it took everything in her to both hold on to her temper and keep her feet. Maybe she'd had too much to drink, but she felt she'd had a damn good reason to get shitfaced. It wasn't bad enough that her ineptitude had nearly cost Minette her life. That it had cost so many innocents their lives. Now, because of it, Micah had been grabbed by a pair of psychos on her watch and, if she couldn't get her shit together and find him, he was going to die a horrible death. She would have to live with the guilt that brought. She'd never be able to look Minette in the eye again. Her friend already thought she was a bitch. What would she think if Aedan let Micah die?
Those thoughts had been part of what had driven her out of the room below the Circus earlier. She'd been unable to confront Minette and had hoped, however naïvely, that putting her nose to the ground and finding out where Micah was being held would earn her Minette's understanding and forgiveness. That had been her plan, had seen her in her car and on the road before she could even really think about what she was doing. And then... Then she'd been an idiot and had let herself mentally check in with Jean Claude. To see how things had gone with Minette.
She'd expected him to be holding her friend, soothing the woman's fears and worries. She'd expected him to be doing what he could to help her in her time of need. She hadn't expected to find...
Her brain was swift and ruthless in cutting off those thoughts, stomping them down into the abyss before her heart could shatter anymore. Not that it mattered. Tears pricked her eyes and threatened to fall, which would have totally ruined her 'cold as ice bitch' reputation were anyone to see her crying like a love sick heroine in a badly written romance novel. She had to find a place to get away from everyone before she bawled all over them. But where to go? Her apartment was off limits at the moment, in the middle of an extensive remodel. Downstairs would only be asking for trouble. Was there anyplace she could go where she could be alone?
Her brain spun on the question, trying to find a good answer. The problem was there wasn't one. She had no where to go. No one to go to. Panic took her at the realization that she was literally at Jean Claude's mercy and the tears fell faster. Her arm and shoulder collided with a passerby hard enough that she staggered and almost lost her footing. But a hand was there to catch her and she found herself staring into Janika's concerned face. "Aedan? What's going on? Are you drunk?" she asked, then stopped and really stared. "Are you crying?"
Of course her question only prompted the tears to fall harder and faster. Aedan tried to find a reasonable explanation, but none was immediately forthcoming and she just couldn't tell Janika that she was a miserable, pathetic excuse for a Federal Marshal and she was hurt because she was in love with someone who didn't love her back. That would just sound so lame. "I need to get out of here," she whispered, acutely aware of the crowd around them.
"Come on. I'll escort you to the door and you can go down--"
"No!" Aedan got out, louder than she'd planned it to be. And more forceful. Janika stared at her a moment, brow creasing as a frown pulled the corners of her mouth down. Then she nodded and turned.
"Okay. I know a place we can go," she replied quietly. She moved so she was standing next to Aedan, slipped her arm around the other woman's shoulders, and quietly urged her forward through the crowd. Aedan let Janika push her along, brain switching to auto-pilot in an effort to stem the tide of tears. She hated crying, and she certainly didn't want to be caught doing so over something so trivial as whether or not the man she was hopelessly in love with actually cared about her. But getting her wayward emotions under control was much harder than she liked. Which meant she was still in tears and practically sobbing when they finally stepped into an empty room that held several pieces of furniture. Janika took her over to a couch and, together, they settled on the seats. "We're alone now. Tell my you're crying. And drunk."
That was a loaded question. One she didn't plan on answering. But she had to figure out how to distract Janika from her questions. The problem was there were very few things in the room she could use to do that with. Nothing interesting or unique to which Aedan could draw her attention. No current events she could bring up. Sports were out. What did she even know about sports, anyway? Words were failing her. What else could she do?
It hit her out of the blue. It was an insane idea. But something told her it would work. She just had to...
Aedan nearly lunged forward, her hands coming up to catch Janika's cheeks between them. The other woman had a second to be surprised, eyes going wide, then Aedan pressed her lips to Janika's. There was a moment or two where she felt Janika flailing, arms waving at her sides in confused panic as she tried to decide what to do about this latest turn of events. Then they moved in, hands settling on her shoulders as if to push Aedan away. That push never came.
The softness of Janika's lips was intoxicating. And she tasted like fresh strawberries and cream. She wondered, briefly, what she tasted like to Janika. And what had originally been meant as a means to distract Janika suddenly became a legitimate, all consuming need. Aedan inched closer slowly. Carefully. Until her body was snug up against Janika's. And then she opened her mouth, used her tongue to gently tease Janika's lips apart. A sigh rolled up her throat when Janika's hands drifted upward until they cradled Aedan's face between them. Aedan deepened the kiss, sliding her tongue into Janika's mouth. She pressed even closer.
Her hands slid from Janika's cheeks to her shoulders, then to her waist. Her fingers made quick, if fumbling, work of the fly on the woman's jeans. She found herself filled with the growing desire to feel Janika's skin against her own and needed to see her companioned freed of her clothing.
She'd somehow managed to press Janika down into the cushions on her back, jeans around her knees and shirt bunched up under her armpits, when a hand came to rest on her shoulder. The cold feel of death and the grave spilled into her through that contact and she knew a moment of panic, Aedan pulled away and turned to look behind her, rising to her feet at the same time. She moved too quickly, brain still fogged with drink, and stumbled over nothing. That was how she ended up in Asher's arms, eyes caught by his own, his power stroking against her skin and teasing her own.
"I'm sorry," she rushed, her tongue tripping over her words. "I know I shouldn't have, but she's so beautiful and I needed to touch her and this is all my fault and I'll go. Just let go of me and I'll go and we'll pretend this never happened. Please don't be mad at me."
"Aedan. Aedan, cherie, it is okay. You have done nothing wrong," he told her, voice soft. She fell silent, blinked at him in confusion. Asher stared back, gaze intense and searching. Then, before she could register what he was doing, he pulled her into him until she could feel every inch of him pressed firmly against her body. She opened her mouth to ask him what was going on. That's when his mouth covered hers, his tongue slid between her lips, and he kissed her until her toes curled.
Well, when you put it that way...
Tags:
(no subject)
Date: 2018-01-06 10:26 pm (UTC)Um, yeah...for a bit I was happily able to forget it was arctic outside. ;) (Thank you for that!!)
And as hot as JC's bit was, I must say I'm more curious about the trio coming up (er, so to speak ;) ).
So much goodness here - including poor Micah and wacked out brother and sister. Oh man, your knack for description just gets me. I shuddered in sympathy. So much disturbing stuff, and yet so much intrigue. :-) I hope down the road Micah gets to exact his own revenge against these two...*crosses fingers*
And as usual the plot is so intricate and complex that the smut actually, to me at any rate, is secondary. I'm just SO fascinated to see how all this is playing out and the emotional damage (and hopefully eventual recovery) that will ensue. So many threads are coming together and I love being along for the ride. :-)
Well done doesn't even begin to cover it, bb. :-) *applauding*
(no subject)
Date: 2018-01-06 11:03 pm (UTC)you know, as soon as i figure out what they'll be doing, i'll get right on it.
we'll see what happens with brother and sister. i have a feeling that they've gone and done the worst thing possible for their continued ability to breathe. but we'll see what happens when we finally get there.
so much plot. holy shit, there's still so much plot! i have so much stuff i want to work in and, ugh, bad brains are bad. i'm plugging away, but it feels like i'm moving slower than a winter ice floe on a frozen river. maybe some day... *sighs*
i'm really glad you enjoyed, hon. thanks for reading and commenting.
(no subject)
Date: 2018-01-09 12:09 am (UTC)Oh, please. I do not.
(no subject)
Date: 2018-01-09 12:23 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2018-01-09 12:15 am (UTC)That was just ... wow. And, yes, hot. Seriously. I feel ever so much warmer now. Thankies.
You know, I was feeling all sorts of sorry for Aedan but then Janika ... and then Asher... Holy shit. Now I'm jealous of what's to come. Ahem.
And poor Isis. Ugh.
I really hope that Micah gets to rip apart someone. lol
Aedan, get you shit together and go save that kitty!
(no subject)
Date: 2018-01-09 12:28 am (UTC)i'll take wow. assuming its a good wow. also, i guess my measure for hotness is broken because i just kind of went... this really sucks, its so meh, there's no hotness to be had. so... yeah.
Aedan is so confused where Jean Claude is concerned. because she wants him but she doesn't want him and she would love to get closer to him but he scares the crap out of her so... gotta admit. i'm kind of jealous of what's to come, too. but i'm sure Aedan will be good.
that whole thing had to have rattled Isis a lot for her to be so out of sorts.
we'll see if Micah gets to rip anyone apart.
and we'll have to see if that girl can even come close to getting her shit together.
thanks for reading, hon. glad you enjoyed. and thanks for the lovely words.
(no subject)
Date: 2018-01-09 12:43 am (UTC)I get that. I think it's because we are continually trying to out-smut ourselves and so we just kinda get burnout by it? Does that even make sense? I dunno. *shuts up*
I'm still holding out hope that she can. *keeps fingers crossed*
(no subject)
Date: 2018-01-09 01:01 am (UTC)that totally makes sense, hon. i know exactly what you mean. and that's probably why, while i know what i want to have happen in the next chapter, my brain is being a dick and not letting me get it out.