The Mary Sue Virus: Beyond Death

[ladydeathfaerie]

Title: The Mary Sue Virus: Beyond Death
Chapter Fifty Seven: Love, Sweet Love
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: finally. fucking finally! that's all i can say. we get to this. technically, i had a chapter written and ready to go. (its been sitting in my drafts for ages) but i decided that i didn't want to post it all in one thing. so i split it into pieces and built other scenes around it. and here's what we get. whatever this is

The Mary Sue Virus: Beyond Death - Index Link

Janika stared at the screen with wide eyes, hands clasped together in front of her. She'd been watching the live broadcast for some time even though they didn't have anything new to share. She knew that Aedan had been at that crime scene, that she'd seen whatever horrors were hidden behind the walls of that house. She didn't like that Aedan had been forced to deal with something that would no doubt be traumatic so soon after she'd just started calming down. It would be so easy for her to get thrown back into the cycle of sleeplessness and stubbornness that she'd been on before.

There was a knock at the door, then it opened and Asher was there. Which she thought was stupid because he didn't have long before he had to be safely hidden away under the Circus. It was very late at night, or very early in the morning, depending upon how you looked at it. He couldn't afford to be caught out so close to dawn. She didn't want to see what would happen to him if that happened.

She wasn't sure how he'd known she needed him. Maybe it was the panic that had consumed her when she'd first stumbled across the news. Maybe it was something in her voice, as they'd been on the phone together when she'd clicked onto this channel. Maybe he had the ability to see things, too, and he'd seen her freaking out over this. She didn't know. She didn't care. She was glad, despite the lateness of the hour, to see him. So it was a blessing when he closed the door and then joined her on the couch, his arms circling her body in order to pull her close and offer her the comfort of his warmth.

"Aedan was there," she whispered.

"She was," he confirmed, though it was unnecessary. "But she is at the Circus now. Jean Claude brought her home."

If Jean Claude had gone and gotten her, whatever she'd seen at that house must have rattled her. Badly. "Its a demon killing," Janika told him Not that the news had said one way or another what kind of killing it had been. She just knew. "It must have been horrible."

"I have no doubt it was," Asher replied. Then he reached out and took the remote from her hand. The set clicked off, the screen going black as the images faded away. "But staring at the news will not do you any good. Pack a bag and come back with me to the Circus. I will hold you until you go to sleep."

She turned in his embrace so that she could stare at him. "You're scared."

"Not scared. Concerned," he admitted. "Whatever Aedan saw in that house, it was bad enough to leave her incapable of driving. I do not like that you are here alone."

She saw the seriousness in his face and frowned. It was a little unusual for him to be this freaked out. Asher was normally the poster child for stoic. But their relationship with Aedan was new, still in its infancy. And she could tell he didn't like that he hadn't been able to protect her from whatever it was she'd seen at that house. So he was going to protect Janika, because he needed to do something. "I would love to have you hold me until I fall asleep," she told him honestly.

He smiled, a tight one that didn't reach his eyes. She suspected he wouldn't calm down until they were back under the Circus, where he felt she'd be safe. "You know I love holding you."

"Good. That's as it should be. And you can come with me to pack that bag, mister. That way you can be sure I bring along exactly what you like." She winked at him on the last and tugged from his embrace so she could stand. It wasn't easy, as he didn't want to let her go. But she eventually pulled free, then took hold of his hand with her own and tugged on it. He stood silently and let her drag him after her.

They crossed the apartment in silence, his hand warm and comforting in her own. She wanted to ask him questions, but he didn't look to be in the mood to answer them at the moment. So she'd leave it alone for now, let him protect her until dawn came. Tomorrow night was soon enough to ask any questions that didn't get answered during the day.

When they reached her bedroom, Janika pulled Asher over to the bed, turned him so that his back was to it, and convinced him to sit. Mostly by pushing at his shoulders until he gave in and sat down on the edge of the bed. She stepped between his knees and slid her arms around his neck, fingers sliding up into the silken fall of his hair so that she could tip his head back. "You're so beautiful," she whispered to him.

Her words saw a small, genuine smile spring to life on his face. His hands found her hips, settled there and held her in place even though she made no move to step away. "That should be what I say to you."

"But you are, Asher. You're beautiful. I'm so lucky to have you in my life," she told him gently. Then she leaned in and pressed her lips to his, took his mouth in a slow, burning kiss that left him with absolutely no doubt what it was she was thinking at that moment. His hands slid from her hips and rose up her back, settling against her shoulder blades in order to press her closer to him. She pulled back, already gasping for breath and completely hungry for him. "And I'm going to take this opportunity to show you how beautiful you are."

She leaned in to kiss him again. This time, she added her tongue to the mix. Slid it intentionally over the tip of a fang and nicked it. Just a little. She felt him shudder against her and his arms tightened down. "And then," she whispered when she drew back. "We're going to go back to the Circus and I'm going to show you how beautiful you are all over again."

~*~*~*~*~

The look in Jean Claude's eyes made every single one of her nerve endings come screaming to life and a fire started in her belly. Aedan said nothing, simply tugged at his shirt in an effort to pull him forward. He leaned into her, his hands bringing her chin up just enough to give him full access to her mouth. She met him halfway, hungry for his kiss. Eager for it. His lips moved against hers slowly. Masterfully. They tasted and teased, left her body burning with want of him. She uncurled her fingers from his shirt so that she could slip her arms up over his shoulders, drawing him even closer with the need to feel every inch of him. Then he was urging her down until she was pressed into the mattress on her back, his body heavy on top of hers.

She twined her hands in the softness of his midnight curls, wrapped her legs around his waist. Held him close while their mouths moved in a slow, languid dance of give and take. She was surrounded by him, by both the physical and the metaphysical. Having his power brushing her skin while his body covered her own made it difficult to think. Not that she needed to think. Thinking meant trouble and she didn't want trouble tonight. Tonight, she only needed to feel.

And Jesus fuck, it wasn't hard to feel. Every single cell in her body was awake and tingling with awareness in a way it never had been before. She could feel his desire through their connection, could feel it prodding her hip through the layers of their clothing. Could feel it in the way his lips pressed hers, the way his tongue teased at the corners of her mouth. The way his hands glided up and down her sides, fingers grazing her ribs and hips and breasts with each pass. Could feel the way each touch of his hands and mouth and tongue stroked the fires of need higher and higher, until she was burning from the inside out. Until she was so hungry for him that she couldn't see straight.

She wanted to tell him to stop teasing and just fuck her. But that would require pulling away from him long enough to find the ability to speak. And she didn't want to let him go.

She was forced to pull back when she realized that he'd kissed the air from her, that she'd gotten so lost in his touch and the feel of his mouth on hers that she'd forgotten about little things like lungs and air and breathing. Jean Claude rolled off her to settle on the mattress beside her. He smiled down at her as she panted for breath, elbow planted in the mattress in order to rest his head in his palm while he ran his free hand lightly up and down her arm.

Gods, she could stare at him for the rest of her days. He was so beautiful, with eyes gone so dark they'd moved from their normal blue to black. With curling, silken black hair that hung long and free about a face that looked as if it had been sculpted from marble by one of the masters. Her gaze slid from the beauty of his face and the tender smile that resided there to his chest. His shirt was the same shade of blue as his eyes had been only a short time ago, except in the spots where her tears had soaked into the material. Those spots were nearly as black as his hair. Aedan felt a twinge of guilt for sobbing all over his shirt the way she had. And then there were the wrinkles her careless fists had left behind. She was no expert, but it looked old.

The best course of action, naturally, was to rid him of the shirt. Maybe she could make it disappear when he wasn't looking. She reached for him and set about undoing every single one of the buttons that held it closed. Each tiny disk she slipped from its hole saw the left side of the garment gaping down toward the bedding until she'd undone the last one and bared half of his chest to her view. What she saw was perfectly formed, save the cross-shaped scar that someone had burned into his skin. She let her fingers glide over the raised flesh, trace its edges, before dragging her fingers down to pluck at his nipple. His entire body shivered in reaction and she thought she heard him draw a quick breath.

Just like that, she needed to see everything. Aedan sat up and reached for him. He followed with no other prompting. She said nothing as she tugged the tails of his shirt from the waistband of his jeans so that she could push the item off. Then she let her hands wander, let her fingers map the curve of each muscle and the line of each rib. Let them circle his nipples and explore the indentation of his belly button. "So beautiful," she whispered, letting her gaze flick up to his face. His eyes had darkened as he'd watched her explore. She found herself snared in them and forgot, just for a moment, that she was trying to learn every inch of him.

He leaned toward her again, took her mouth with his own in a kiss that felt fiercely possessive. That left a fire burning under her skin, that scorched her soul and left a mark branded upon it. His hands cupped her cheeks briefly before sliding down over her throat. They came to rest just at the curve where neck became shoulder, allowing him to stroke his thumbs along the underside of her chin while a pair of fingers teased up and down the sensitive skin  stretched over the sides of her throat, bringing shudders to the surface. It was such a gentle, intimate caress in the face of his demanding kiss. It drove all thought from her head. All but the thought that she needed him.

She sank into his touch and his kiss, let her hands seek out the bare expanse of his chest. He shivered under her feather light explorations, making her wonder for just a moment if her power slid through him when her skin came into contact with his the way his power climbed into her. If it clung to his flesh like it belonged there. She stroked and tweaked his nipples, followed the curve of his ribs, dragged her nails over his belly. Let them dip down to the waist band of his jeans to tease at the skin hidden just under the edge before bringing them up to start the trek all over again.
 
Their actions were slow, as if they had all the time in the world to get to know one another. When he'd kissed her breathless again, he drew back so that he could start helping her from her clothing. Her suit coat and shoulder harness had already been removed, probably as soon as they'd made it into her room, but she'd been so out of it she couldn't remember it being done. His fingers gently tugged her blouse from the waistband of her pants and pulled it up over her head, fingertips trailing against her skin to leave rivers of fire running under her flesh. Even so simple a touch left her shivering with desire. When she was fully free of the blouse, it was tossed carelessly to the floor and forgotten.

Jean Claude's eyes were so very dark when they focused on her exposed torso, glittering onyx that burned with hunger. She watched as his hands came up to settle on her shoulders and stroke down her arms. The straps of her bra went with them until they could go no further. He lifted her hands, one at a time, to plant kisses on each knuckle before turning them over so he could lay a kiss against her palm. Trace sigils into her skin with the tip of his tongue. When he let go of her hands, he dropped his to her waist and used them to bring her up onto her knees.

His mouth dropped a kiss onto her shoulder, then used them to blaze a downward path. He kissed along her clavicle, moving from the inside out and back again. His tongue painted pictures on her skin before he shifted lower in order to catch the lacy edge of her bra with his teeth. The cup peeled away from her breast so very slowly. Cool air met her heated flesh and tightened the already erect nipple up until it hurt. Seconds after dragging it down, his mouth laid claim to that hardened peak and sucked at it tenderly. There was the faint, occasional scrape of fang against her skin, sending tiny shafts of pain rushing along her nerves. The contrast between the two actions filled her with pleasure until she felt she would overflow.

Once more, she buried her fingers in the softness of his hair and held his head close. A tiny pin-prick of pain saw lights exploding behind her eyelids. Before she'd fully recovered from the supernova of sensation, his mouth repeated its trick with the other cup, tugging it lower in order to free her breast. And again, his mouth took possession of her nipple, his fangs occasionally scraping the soft flesh to draw gasps and moans up her throat as pleasure and pain worked together to drive her ever closer to the edge of insanity.

Jean Claude took an eternity with her nipples, carefully laving them with his tongue, his absolute attention given to the task. By the time he was finished, they were puckered and aching for more. Her breasts felt heavy. Her entire body begged for fulfillment but she couldn't make herself put it into words. He looked up at her, eyes drowning pools of darkness. The urge to sink into them was almost overwhelming. He pressed a kiss against her breast bone, his hands sliding up her back to unhook her bra. Like her blouse, it was discarded carelessly and forgotten. She shivered when his hands glided up and down her spine, his fingers stopping at the waistband of her pants. Then he brought them around and grasped the tongue of the zipper. It gave way easily, the sound of the teeth falling away from each other loud in the silence of the room.

He urged the garment down over her ass, his hands slipping under the loosened material to glide over her cheeks. The black cloth pooled where her knees were bent. His touch drifted down to the backs of her thighs and rested there a moment before gliding back up to once more claim her ass. His grip tightened and she found herself pulled up against him, his mouth hot and hungry on the skin between her breasts. The softness of his hair tickled and teased where it slid against her heated flesh. She wrapped her arms around him, pressed her hands against the back of his head to hold him where he was.

Slowly, gradually, he lowered her to the mattress until she lay on her back. His mouth trailed kisses from the valley between her breasts to her belly button, his hands moving before him to push her trousers down further. After leaving a dozen or so light kisses around her navel, he drew away from her so that he could remove her pants and her panties. Both pieces of clothing were dropped on the floor without a second thought. When he was done, he knelt on the bed beside her and simply stared down at her naked body. Devoured her with his eyes. Started roaring fires with his gaze.

His attention was intense and complete as it traced every inch of her body. As it catalogued old scars and marks along with the swell of her breasts and the flare of her hips and the length of her limbs. She could feel the full weight of his stare pressing against her skin, against her mind, as he memorized all of her. She had to fight the urge to cover herself, forced her hands to remain at her sides. And for the first time in her life, she wished she was beautiful.

Jean Claude's gaze snapped to hers, just the faintest frown touching the corner of his lips. One hand reached out to settle against her cheek lightly, fingers stroking it once. "Aedan, ma mie, you are beautiful." His voice was a mere whisper, but it was enough to see her heart pounding in her chest. He leaned toward her to deliver a brief, passionate kiss to her lips. It was such a short, tender caress that she could have believed that it hadn't happened at all. He drew back from her, that same soft voice offering her something in French. She didn't understand a word of it, but he made his meaning clear by leaning down to kiss a necklace around her throat.

And so it went. With each new sentence, his words all spoken in his native tongue, he spent a few moments kissing a specific body part. His path led him down one arm, across her belly, and up the other arm so that he could make his way down her torso. He praised her waist, her hips, her belly. The indentation of her navel. He worked his way along the length of her thigh to her foot, making sure to deliver kisses to the back of her knee and the tender, ticklish flesh of her sole. Then he did the same to her other leg, starting with her foot in order to climb back up her body to her hips.

His last words were whispered with his head between her thighs, his mouth pressed up against the most intimate part of her. It sounded to her like he offered her a poem or a promise. She couldn't tell for sure. Seconds later, she didn't care which it was because his mouth sealed over her nether lips and his tongue probed between them and she was lost to the sensations that had been building since he'd told her she was beautiful. That clever, artful tongue spoke to her in a new language, one she had no difficulty understanding, as it stroked her clit and probed as deeply inside of her as it could. As it tasted and teased her. She cried out, back arching, as need exploded hot and heavy under her skin. His hands took hold of her hips and gently resettled them on the mattress. Then he gave all of his attention over to giving her pleasure.

He employed every single one of his many years and all of the tricks he'd learned over his long life in the task of bringing her to orgasm again and again. The strength in his arms was enough to keep her from squirming away from him when the sensations got to be too much. In between, he stroked his fingers along her sides and her abdomen, let them mold and squeeze her breasts. There were occasions when he drew back far enough to look her in the eye and let her breathe. There were times when he pushed the pleasure into the realm of pain, a fang grazing the plump fold of a lip or the sensitive bundle that was her clit. He licked. He sucked. He drove her mad with the need for more.

And the only thing Aedan could do was card her hands through his hair while she moaned and whimpered and gasped and pleaded and begged.

She wasn't sure how long Jean Claude remained settled between her thighs. By the time he finally lifted his head, she could barely remember her name. Anything else would have been far too difficult to manage. Even breathing appeared to be a challenge. So she simply watched as he crawled up over her, watched as his gaze flicked her length one more time before he settled himself on top of her and took her mouth once again. It didn't matter that she could taste herself on his lips and tongue. It only added to the emotions flooding through her. She pressed more fully against him, arms twining around his neck so that she could bury her fingers in his hair yet another time.

His mouth ate at hers, tongue gliding against her own possessively. One thigh found its way between her thighs and rubbed against the tender flesh there. The rough texture of the denim dragged across her clit, well beyond sensitive, and sparked another orgasm that forced her to pull away from him so she could draw air into her lungs. He stared down at her, gave her a knowing look that sent aftershocks rolling through her. His hand reached up to brush damp strands of hair back from her face. "My sweet, beautiful Aedan," he whispered.

She shivered at the sound of his voice, at the compliment he gave her. Her hands withdrew from the silk of his hair so that they could glide down to his waist. Her fingers hooked in the belt loops, one on each hip, and tugged on them. "You're wearing too many clothes, Jean Claude. And I'm growing impatient for you."

"Well, then," he replied, taking hold of her so that he could roll them until she lay on top of him. "Do not let me keep you waiting any longer."

Aedan took it for the invitation it was. She shifted until she was sitting up, her body straddling his thighs in order to give her access to his fly. For a second or two, she wished that she could remove his clothing as quickly and as easily as he had hers. But she wasn't as capable at such things as he was. In fact, there was a slight tremor to her hands that would make it especially difficult to strip him down. So he was going to have to suffer through her clumsy, human slow movements. Maybe if she made it worth his while, he wouldn't notice how graceless her actions where.

Leaning forward, she captured one of his nipples between her teeth and nipped at it. At the same time, her hands reached for the button at his waist and slowly eased it from its hole. Her arms brushed against the erection straining against the fabric, drawing a hiss of breath from him. When she shifted her focus to his other nipple, her fingers grasped at the tab of his zipper and slowly worked it down. The metallic rasp of the teeth parting was plain to hear. So was the single word he said in French. She suspected it was a bad word, brought on by her very thorough attention. She smiled and released her hold on his nipple so that she could leave a line of kisses down the center of his body toward his belly button.

Her hands slid between the denim of his jeans and his skin. Jean Claude lifted his hips ever so slightly to allow her the ability to slide the offending garment over his ass. She went up on her knees, taking her weight off his thighs, so she could nudge the tight material down toward his feet. When it became almost impossible to continue to use her hands in the removal of his last remaining piece of clothing without lifting away from the pale flesh of his stomach, she employed her feet to finish the task. Doing so brought chuckles up his throat and the sound of his laughter, touched with his power, almost saw her orgasming yet again. When she finally got his jeans to his ankles, he was nice enough to kick them off without disturbing her.

Without the distraction of stripping him naked, she could concentrate completely on him. Even as her mouth inched lower, her hands went ahead and found the thick length of his erection. Shivers raced through him when she curled her fingers around him. He was hot and hard against her palm, skin soft and smooth as if silk had been stretched over steel. The first stroke of her hand up his shaft brought forth a groan that sent a thrill through her. It did something to her knowing that she could work him into such a fevered state, that she had that kind of power. She lifted her head far enough to allow her to roll her eyes up to his own. Gave him a knowing look. Wait until he found out what came next.

Even as she brought her hand up to the head of his cock, she dropped her head so that she could slide her mouth down over him. She held herself still a moment, her lips stopped just past the flared head, and sucked. Hard. He groaned and shifted restlessly beneath her. Then she moved, inching forward. He said another bad word in French when she swallowed him down.

When she drew back, she did so slowly, her lips tight around his erection while she sucked with all her might. He muttered something under his breath, body tense beneath hers. She reveled in her power over him for just a moment, took joy in seeing him lose some of his iron control. Then she swallowed him down again and let her brain turn back to the task of pleasuring him.

A few more strokes saw his hips shifting in time with her motions. One of his hand settled on the back of her head, slid against her skull in silent encouragement. His fingers tangled in her hair, shifted to allow the silken threads to run through them like water. The touch was ephemeral and it pulled shudders up the length of her spine. She found herself sucking at him harder, taking him deeper.

Minutes ticked by. Aedan alternated how fast or slow she sucked, how deep or shallow she took him. Jean Claude's body moved against the bedding without apology, his hips thrusting into her mouth while his hands cupped her head. A particularly pleasing flourish earned her a few words of praise in French. She didn't know what he said to her. And it wasn't important. The only thing that mattered was the feel of his skin against hers. The sound of his voice, hoarse and needy, in the silence of the room. The touch of his hands against her head. Him.

He was all that mattered.

~*~*~*~*~

"You are still tense, my blossom," Requiem said quietly a moment before his hands settled on her shoulders. Minette hissed out a breath when his fingers tightened down and started kneading the tension from them. Prickles of pain skittered down her spine as her muscles slowly worked at unknotted themselves. "You are still thinking of the news broadcast?"

"I'm sorry, Requiem," Minette replied, voice touched with guilt. "I didn't plan for our night to go so wrong."

"There is nothing to apologize for, Minette. It is only natural that you would be interested in such a story. Then concerned about Aedan because of what must have happened in that house. The night is not yet over and I believe I can find a way to take your mind off your worries. Even if only for a few hours."

"I'm sure you can," she returned, a smile spreading across her face. His hands left her shoulders so that he could pull her back into his chest. She snuggled into him, molding her frame to his so that she felt every ridge of muscle. He dropped a kiss against cheek, one hand sliding up in order to curl around her breast. His fingers tweaked her nipple, tugged and pulled at it, while his free hand dipped under the water and between her thighs. Minette's breath slid out of her on a sigh when a pair of fingers slipped inside of her and stroked slow and deep.

"But my attempts at distraction will only last for a short while." There was a touch of sadness in his voice that she couldn't miss. Minette arched into his touch to let him know that it was very much welcome.

"I can't stop thinking about what must have been in that house and what it must have done to her. She hasn't been herself lately and something horrible, if the reporters are right about that scene, will only make it worse."

"You assume she was there," Requiem said, then brushed his lips against the line of her shoulder. Minette's head tipped forward, sending her hair cascading over her shoulders so that the ends trailed in the water. That left the back of her neck exposed to him and he took advantage, trailing kisses over the skin. Nibbling at it gently. Each time she felt his teeth grate across her flesh, she shuddered and her need rose higher. And he knew it, damn him. He wasn't playing fair.

It wasn't that this was how she wanted to spend her evening. It wasn't as if she liked dwelling on what might have happened, what Aedan might have seen. Because no matter what Requiem tried to tell her, she knew Aedan had been in that house. She knew because she'd felt Jean Claude fill with concern earlier. Right before he'd shut that sensation off from her. It was what had clued her into the fact that something was wrong. Then Requiem had told her that Jean Claude had left the Circus in a hurry. She'd known then that Aedan was definitely involved. Intuition had seen her turning on the television. Stupidity had kept her watching when she'd found the news.

That was how she and Requiem had ended up in the bathroom, soaking in a tub filled with warm water and bubble bath. And she felt horrible that she was so wound up about this when they were supposed to be having a close, intimate, personal evening together. But she couldn't help herself.

He pressed his fingers deeper, drew her away from her thoughts as a fresh rush of pleasure slid through her. "She may not have been in that house, Minette," he insisted.

"I know she was... Oh, my God! Right there," she moaned, hips shifting forward in an attempt to encourage his hand to delve deeper. "Her state of mind... Fuck!... Has been so messed up lately and... Please. More."

"How can you be wrapped up in your thoughts of Aedan and still be caught up by what my hands are doing to your body?" he asked, voice a whisper that barely brushed past her ear.

"I'm an excellent multi-tasker," she groaned at him. His fingers did this odd twisting motion that saw thick ropes of pleasure coiling low in her belly. Her hips jerked into his touch of their own accord, asking him for more. So naturally his fingers drew back. "Holy shit, don't tease!"

"Stop thinking," he suggested.

"I can't help it. I have to know she's okay. I know she was in that house. And I know what the crime scenes do to her. I won't be able to do anything else until I know that she's not freaking out somewhere on her own or something." Minette barely got the words out, her body on fire with the need for more.

"She is safe and sound here at the Circus," Requiem told her. He sounded so sure of himself.

"How do you know?" The question came out breathier than she expected because the hand that had been teasing her breast slid down to join its partner between her thighs. It shifted her legs, first one and then the other, so that they were hooked over his legs and she was opened wider for him. Then he pressed a finger against her clit while the other continued to stroke deep into her body.

"Because Jean Claude returned some time ago. With Aedan in tow. And now... They are hidden away in her chambers. In a most delicate position. Which is where we will be momentarily. If you will but put an end to your questions. Allow me to drive all thought from your head, my blossom."

She wanted to be mad that he'd let her go on about her worries without informing her that Jean Claude was back and he'd brought Aedan with. But if he'd done so before they'd gotten involved in their current activity, she would have left him to go check on the other woman herself. "Don't you mean drive me to distraction?" she shot back, the tension returning for entirely different reasons.

"Is it not the same thing?" He'd barely asked the question before he was removing his hands from her body. A whimper rolled up her throat. A whimper that died when his hands took hold of her hips and drew her up so that she was kneeling over his lap. One arm circled her waist and held her where she was, the other falling away in order to take hold of his cock. She felt the head slide against her nether lips, a silent promise that she knew he planned on keeping.

The moment his arm loosened its hold of her, she allowed herself to sink down over him. She went slowly in order to enjoy the feel of him stretching her. And whimpered loudly when a pair of his fingers helped to fill her. She was left feeling stuffed full, her body too tight around his invading digits and cock. "Requiem?" she panted, of half a mind to pull off of him. It was almost too much for her. But his arm tightened and held her in place. "What are you doing?"

"Distracting you, my blossom. Does this not distract you?" Somehow, and she couldn't say how, he managed to shift his hips and pull out. Managed to thrust back in. Without his fingers moving other than to find that hidden spot inside of her and press it as he filled her past capacity again. Minette nearly screamed with the pleasure, hands scrabbling for purchase on the wet edges of the tub.

"My.. I can't... You..." she sputtered, unable to form thoughts, much less give voice to them. He thrust again, pressed that spot again. It was too much and she felt herself shatter apart, blindsided by a forceful climax that left her limp and shuddering in Requiem's hold. "Oh."

"You see, my blossom? I am quite capable of distracting you," he said, lips right next to her ear. There was a smugness in his voice that she wanted to wipe away. But she had no energy to move and knew she was at his mercy. So she did the only thing she could think of.

"Shut up and fuck me."

~*~*~*~*~

A soft groan broke the silence as his hands twisted around her hair. He pulled her head up, just hard enough to bring a touch of pain to her scalp, forcing her to relinquish her prize. The heated look in his eyes nearly sent her spiraling into another orgasm. As it was, it took everything she had not to fall into the deep abyss of his gaze. "No more, Aedan. If you want me to make love to you, you have to stop."

She stared at him for a moment longer than she meant to. They'd been working toward this since the first piece of clothing had come off. But she hadn't believed it would happen. She'd figured he'd find some way out of it. But he was staring at her, eyes dark and filled with every last bit of desire in the world. She felt like her heart stopped for a moment. The breath caught in her chest. Time stopped and held as they simply stared. She was captivated by the sight of his desire. Then everything started up again and she crawled toward him on all fours. His hands skimmed down her sides until they came to her waist. He took hold of her, pulled her down against him, and launched another assault on her lips.

Jesus fuck, he was killing her. Having every inch of his flesh pressed to every inch of hers allowed his power to wrap itself around her like invisible vines. It pulled her in and held her there, as if she belonged there, as if she was a part of him. The need she felt for him only intensified until she thought she'd go mad with it. She wanted to pull back and make demands, but she never wanted to stop kissing him. He must have read her thoughts from her head, or he simply felt the same overwhelming need himself, because he maneuvered them until they were sitting up. She found herself in his lap, his hands resting on the curves of her ass. His mouth slid away from hers so that he could trail kisses over her cheek and to her throat.

Words became obsolete as they worked together. Aedan went up on her knees over him, giving him the ability to reach between them. His fingers teased her swollen folds briefly before drifting away so that he could take hold of his cock and position it. The gentle squeeze of the hand resting at her hip saw her sinking down over him. He filled her, sliding into her until he was fully buried inside and she was on the verge of losing her mind.

She flexed her muscles, prepared to lift herself up, but his hands were there to do the job for her. She marveled at the strength in his hold as he effortlessly pulled her up and held her there for a few seconds, then brought her down over him again. She went in search of his mouth this time, her lips hungry and fierce against his own. The room was filled with the symphony of their union. The bed creaking in time with their motions, the slap of skin against skin as he thrust into her, the soft panting breaths she stole when she could pull her mouth from his.

Her hands had the ability to stroke freely, to glide up and down his back and along his arms. She let her fingers sift through his curls before dragging her nails down his sides so that she could grab hold of his ass and squeeze. She loved the feel of his skin against hers, the hard muscle beneath it. And added to it was the continuing presence of his power as it twined with hers, as it twined around her and drew her closer to him.

For his part, Jean Claude shifted her over him with a precision that would have boggled her mind if she'd been capable of rational thought. But she was too far gone to consider it. All she knew was he knew just the right angle to hit when he wanted her passion to spike higher. Slowed down or sped up his thrusts in reaction to how close she came to her orgasm. Whispered words she didn't understand into her brain that left her even hungrier for him. Even needier. He was driving her insane, slowly, with the sound of his voice and the touch of his hands and the press of his lips and the feel of his hard cock driving up into her. And she loved every goddamn minute of it.

One of his hands fell away, the other arm sliding around her back in order to compensate for the imbalance, so that it could slip between them. How he managed it was beyond her. It felt like they were so close together, they could be melded to one another. But his hand slipped between them, found the juncture between her thighs so that his fingers could flick against her clit. Aedan cried out as pleasure and pain washed through her, back arching as every muscle in her body tightened down at the same time. She came in a wash of technicolor, a rainbow of glittering shards cascading behind her eyelids. And still, Jean Claude kept thrusting into her.

She felt the urgency behind his motions, knew that he was close. Instinct saw her tipping her head to the side, offering her throat to him. His hands pulled her tight against his chest before climbing up her back to tangle in her hair. She let him readjust the angle of her throat, wrapping her arms around his neck in order to give herself some stability. He pressed a kiss to her throat, right where the vein throbbed with life. Scraped his fangs against it. She moaned softly, hips working in time with his, as that same need washed through her again.

His hips thrust deep, burying him inside her fully, at the exact moment he sank his fangs into her throat. The pain was quick and sharp, despite being expected, and it drew a loud gasp from her. The gasp trailed off into a moan as she felt him swell inside of her. Felt him climax. And then she was falling back into the thick, golden river of her own orgasm. The pull of his mouth against her throat triggered more aftershocks until she felt like she'd come apart. She was left breathless and limp in his arms when Jean Claude finally pulled back.

There were no words. He held her close while she rested her head on his shoulder and worked on learning how to breathe again. His tongue dragged over the spot where his fangs had punctured her flesh before he pressed a kiss to it. She sighed and snuggled into him, content to sit there for a few more moments. His hands stroked through her hair gently, careful not to pull on any snarls he might encounter. She wanted to sit like that forever, wanted to hold him forever. But, of course, it wasn't to be.

"Come, ma mie. You should bathe before you sleep." Even before he'd finished speaking, he had them off the bed and he was carrying her toward the bathroom as if she weighed nothing. Bathing was the furthest thing from her mind, but it took too much effort to find the words. The events of the evening had caught up with her and she was simply drained.

He settled her on the closed lid of the toilet and reached out to drain the cold water from the tub. Then he started the water running again. When the temperature was set and the stopper was added, he lifted a bottle from the edge and flipped open the top so that he could pour a good portion of pale, iridescent purple stuff into the water. Bubbles began to grow and spread across the surface, filling the room with a faintly floral scent. Aedan wasn't sure she wanted to smell like flowers, but arguing seemed like a waste of time. And, really, she enjoyed watching him move. He was nothing but lithe, fluid grace made flesh.

When the water was topped with a mountain of bubbles, Jean Claude shut off the taps and turned to her. She was ready to stand so that she could climb into the tub, but he reached out and picked her up, then stepped into the tub with her cradled in his arms. When he sank down, he settled her before him, her hips between his thighs and her back turned to his chest. His hands captured the soap and a loofah, and he started lathering her skin up.

Aedan relaxed into his touch, allowed him to wash the smell of sex and the memories of the crime scene from her skin. She rested with her head against his shoulder, her hands idly trailing against his arms and thighs. He occasionally pressed kisses to the back of her neck and along her shoulder as he worked.

When he'd soaped up every last inch of her flesh and rinsed it clean, he set the soap and loofah aside. Turned his attention to her. His hands stroked down her torso, fingers teasing her nipples into tight peaks. They slid across her abdomen, bringing a delicious tension to life in the muscles beneath them. They dipped between her thighs, urged her legs apart to allow him complete access to the very center of her.

She hissed out a sigh when two fingers pressed into her body, slowly stroked in and out. Her eyes drifted shut as she let one hand follow his arm down under the water until it came to rest on his hand. She curled her fingers around it, guided his motions so that he found just the right spot against which to rub his fingers. His other hand began wandering and once more found her breasts. She laid her other hand over his, worked her fingers between his own so that they teased and tweaked together. She could feel him hard against her back, the blood she'd given him working a magic of its own in his veins. Aedan inched back and rubbed her ass against him.

"No, ma mie," he whispered into her ear. "This is for you. Allow me to give you this pleasure. There will be time for that later."

She sighed, but said nothing and subsided against him. Once more, his hands went to work on her body, thrusting and teasing and tweaking until the fires of passion burned hot and steady under her skin. She sighed and gasped, moaned and groaned with each touch. Panted for breath and silently begged him for more. Each time she neared orgasm, his hands softened and slowed their caresses until she wasn't quite as mindless as she had been. Then he began the slow build all over again. It was the best kind of pleasure and the worst kind of torture.

"Please, Jean Claude. No more," she begged, voice breathy with desire and the need for air. He chuckled softly behind her, the sound vibrating right through her. She shuddered at the sound, then shuddered again when his fingers drove deep and his wrist twisted. It was just the touch she needed. Everything inside of her tightened down as stars burst against her eyelids. Whatever sound she'd have made was lost to the lack of oxygen and the only thing that kept her from sliding under the surface of the water was his hold on her.

When she could draw breath again, when she could see the interior of her bathroom once more, she was cradled against Jean Claude's chest. Both of his arms were loose around her, settled just under her breasts. She sighed and rolled her head so she could look up into his face. He was staring down at her, eyes and smile soft and expressive. He took advantage of her position and pressed a kiss to her lips. Compared to the others they'd shared, it was terribly chaste. But it was filled with promise. There was more of this to come. Maybe tonight. Definitely in the future. Something inside of her thrilled at the thought of a future with him.

"Come. You need food and rest. Today has been long and trying." The words were barely out before he rose up out of the tub with her. Water sheeted off their bodies and dripped from their hair. His hold on her remained steady and he simply lifted her from the tub to stand on the bathmat. She watched him as he stepped away from her to pick up one of the towels waiting on the rack on the wall, watched the muscles move under his pale skin with appreciation. He came back to her with a towel in hand and immediately began buffing her skin dry.

It felt good to be pampered. She occasionally leaned into him to offer her lips for another kiss. Which meant drying off took much longer than it should have. After finishing, after hanging up the towel, he plucked a robe in blue from the hook on the back of the door and wrapped her in it. He skipped a towel and there was no robe for him, so he led her back into her bedroom as naked as the day he'd been born. She was taken by how utterly at ease he was without his clothing, how unabashed he was in his nudity.

A tray rested on the center of the bed. It held a plate stacked with slices of meat, cubes of cheese, and bits of fruit. A glass of juice sat on the night stand. He'd obviously had someone deliver while they'd bathed.

They climbed into the bed together, Jean Claude taking hold of the tray so that he could set it in her lap when she took her place beside him. And he fed little morsels to her, allowing her to suck or lick at his fingertips before drawing them back. It was the stuff of fantasies to have him treating her like a queen and part of her wanted to ask what happened next. Where did they go from there? But she was afraid of the answer. She'd told herself she was cool with it if he didn't care about her. But she knew it was a lie.

Best not to ask any questions.

His fingers caught her chin and turned her to look at him. There was a knowing look in his eyes that said he knew what she'd been thinking. Damn. She was going to have to remember to build her shields back up. The last thing she wanted was to have him wandering around in her head unannounced. The smile he gave her was gentle. "You worry for no reason, Aedan."

"I... what?" Okay. That was an unexpected statement. Jean Claude smiled again, then scooped up a piece of cheese to feed to her. As he did so, she could see that he was searching for the right words.

"Your fears about my affections. You worry for no reason," he repeated. Well, that made a whole bunch of sense. She frowned at him as she chewed the cube of cheese, not sure if he was telling her the truth or just trying to soothe her.

"I don't think I understand."

He chuckled at that. "That makes two of us. This is no easier for me than it is for you. But we would not be here, in your bed, if there was nothing between us." He paused a moment, his eyes taking on a far away look. "There is more to our connection than your power and my marks."

She blinked. Wow. She'd been projecting. A whole lot. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to dump all of this on you. Just... things are so fucking fucked up. I'm starting to feel like I don't know up from down anymore. You're the only constant in the insanity."

"I cannot begin to imagine what all of this has been like for you. I catch glimpses sometimes, when you are too tired or upset." He lifted his hand to brush his fingers against her temple. "You are very strong and you have handled much of this with a steady grace and determination that should not live in one so young. I believe Anita chose very well."

She swallowed at that. There was longing in his voice. Grief. Love and loss. "I'm sorry I can't be her. I'm sorry you have me instead."

"I am not." He reached out to pull her closer to him, one arm sliding around her shoulders. "I will always love Anita. No one will ever take that away. But that does not mean there is no room in my heart for more love."

She stared up at him, sifting through his words carefully. She thought she understood what he was saying, but she knew that he was good at misdirection when he wanted to be. Why did relationships have to be so hard? "So you're saying that there are emotions there, but you're not ready to give your heart again just yet?"

"Oui. That is exactly it. I still grieve for Anita, though many would think I do not. That is an emotion that I will not share with everyone. I loved her very much and her loss weighs heavily on my heart. But I would not be here in your bed with you if there was nothing between us. I can find many willing partners to feed my sexual desires. You offer something no one else is willing to offer."

"I do?" She asked and immediately regretted it. It made her sound so intelligent.

He smiled and touched her chest gently with one hand. "You offer me your heart. And you offer me all of you. That is a gift that should be cherished."

His words saw her blushing. "I feel like this shouldn't have happened. That it was too fast. Part of me wants to insist that Anita's gifts color my perceptions and my emotions. But I don't think they do. Not about this. And I don't expect you to feel anything for me. We don't know each other. And you're still in love with Anita."

"I will always be in love with Anita. And there is time for what we have between us to grow into something more," he told her. "At the same time, you must understand that I will do what I must to protect my people."

"I know." She glanced at her hands for a moment. When she looked up at him again, there was a faint frown on her face. "I fully understand that I am ultimately a tool to be used to keep your power base fine tuned. That's probably all Anita intended for me to be. I can live with that."

"You are more than a tool, Aedan. You are more than a pillar." He made sure there was a touch of distaste in his voice as he told her that. Then he paused and stared at her while choosing his next words. "I am old. I have seen many vampires lose their holdings because they were not strong enough or smart enough or capable enough. I have no desire to see someone destroy my kiss and my life here in St. Louis. To that end, yes. You are a tool. You make me strong in ways another human servant could not. Anita filled the same role. But that is not all she was to me. And that is not all you are, either."

He fell silent, obviously searching for the right words to use, and offered her a ripe strawberry. Aedan chewed it slowly, watching as he picked the information he felt she needed to hear. "There are emotions. But they are young and not very strong. We have time to nurture them and help them grow strong. I care for you. I care for you because you are who you are. There may one day be love, but it cannot be forced. I need time to fully grieve. And we need to learn more about one another. Perhaps your emotions are influenced by Anita's gifts to you. Perhaps they are not. We have time to figure it out."

She drew a breath and thought about what he hadn't said. He felt something for her. Something more than simple ownership. What it was, though, she wasn't sure. But he did feel something. It would have to be enough for now. Nodding, she turned to look at him once more. "That's good enough for me." It would have to be.

He gifted her with a smile, soft and gentle and unlike anything she'd seen him give anyone before now, and offered her a piece of ham wrapped around a piece of cheese. She took it from him and chewed slowly. The need to talk and fill the silence had faded. She was left feeling pleasantly worn out, muscles a little tight from strenuous activity, and more than a little sleepy. Jean Claude kept his arm around her shoulders, let his fingers lightly glide against her arm and side to leave warm tingles in their wake. He paused between every two or three morsels to press a kiss to her lips. By the time the platter was emptied of its contents, Aedan was just on the verge of being full and her entire body was on fire with need.

The empty platter was set aside, forgotten, as he took her down to the mattress one last time. Her robe was dropped over the side of the bed and when she finally fell asleep, much later, it was in his arms, with her head resting on his chest. Where his heart was beating. Just for her.

~*~*~*~*~

"Rhia! Rhia! Its okay. You're okay. Calm down. You're here with me and you're safe. Calm down and tell me what you saw," Nathaniel's voice, soft and unthreatening, cut across the clinging tendrils of her dream and the fear it had brought to life. The touch of his hand on her arm helped pull her the rest of the way from the depths of that particular hell and anchor her in the here and now. She blinked at him, her hand shaking as she lifted it to push the tangle of her hair from her face. "How bad was it?" he asked her quietly.

"Goddess, Nathaniel. It was... I've never seen anything like that before in my life. And I hope I never have to see it again," she told him. He pressed a kiss to her cheek, one hand pressing against her shoulder in a silent command to stay where she was. Then he got up and padded from the room. Rhia worked on steadying her breathing while he was gone, pulling air in through her nose before letting it out through her mouth. By the time he returned, glass of water in his hand, she was mostly calm.

"Tell me about it, Rhia," he said. The look she turned his way was panicked, prompting him to reach out and put his hands on her shoulders. "Its okay, Rhia. You can tell me about it. Whatever you saw, it can't hurt you here. I'm here and I'll keep you safe. Whatever it was, it wasn't real. Just take a breath and start at the beginning."

She didn't want to do it. She knew that he was right, that it wasn't anything that could hurt her. It had just been a vision disguised as a dream. Nothing real or solid. Just... a warning of a possibility. But that didn't stop her from shivering when she pulled on the lingering tendrils of the dream. "I was in a backyard," she began, sipping her water to deal with the dryness of her throat. She had to have been screaming in her sleep and she wondered what her neighbors thought of such a thing. It was starting to look like it was time to consider moving. Maybe she could find a cheap house somewhere?

"Why were you in a backyard, Rhia? What was in the backyard?" Nathaniel prompted when she'd been silent too long.

"They wanted me to see something," she told him.

"Who? Who wanted you to see?"

"I... don't know. Men. One of them looked familiar. But I can't figure out why." She paused and frowned. She knew she recognized the one man. She just couldn't recall where she'd seen him before.

"What did they show you?" It was another prompt, letting Rhia know that the dream had been much worse than she'd imagined. Marianne had had to prompt her like this before when she'd had particularly nasty visions. The urge to hide under the covers washed over her and Rhia found herself shivering again.

"It was..." she stopped and frowned. She couldn't see it clearly, but she knew it was just beyond the edges of the shadows. Whatever it was. She edged forward, careful where she put her feet. Because the ground was... "A pool of blood."

The words came out on a gasp and it was only Nathaniel's quick reflexes that kept the glass of water from spilling all over the bed when it slipped from her suddenly nerveless fingers. "A pool of blood? What's bad about a pool of blood?"

"No. Not a pool, like a puddle on the ground. A pool, as in a swimming pool. Red with blood. So much blood. And there were... Oh, goddess. There were body parts. In the pool. Small ones. Children. I saw..." she broke off, unable to finish the sentence. It was just too horrible to even contemplate what her mind was showing her.

But she couldn't stop the images, now that she'd pulled them into the light. They rushed at her, caught her before she could hide herself away from them. Poured over her until she felt like she was drowning. Nathaniel's hand was there again, grounding her and pulling her back from the brink of madness. "Its okay, Rhia. Its just a dream."

"I was at a house. There were bodies everywhere. In the pool. Beside it. Inside the house. All over the interior of the house. Adults and children. All ages. All dead. Torn apart. Shredded. Chewed up. Eaten. Just... gone." She looked at Nathaniel and frowned. "The demon summoner. He's planning something big. Something terrible. We have to warn..."

Her words trailed off when she noticed the look on Nathaniel's face. It was something like pity and fear. She didn't like it. And she was pretty sure she knew what it meant. She shook her head, tears on her cheeks. "No. No no no no no. It isn't supposed to be like this."

"Rhia." His voice was back to soft and gentle. Quiet against the rising hysteria in her own.

"It isn't supposed to happen like this! I've never seen something happen as it actually happens before! I don't think I can handle this, Nathaniel. It would have been easier if it hadn't happened yet. Then I could live with it because I'd be able to tell myself we still had a chance to stop it from happening. But I can't do that now. Can I? I can't pretend and... All those people, Nathaniel. All those children. Just... gone."

"I know, Rhia. I know," he said, arms sliding around her so he could pull her against him. She went willingly, took the comfort he offered even though she knew it wouldn't do any good. One hand pressed against the back of her head, keeping her face buried in his shoulder, while the other stroked through her hair and down her back in a gesture meant to soothe and relax. "Shhh. Its over now. Try and let it go, Rhia. I'm here."

"I can't let it go, Nathaniel. Don't you see? This just tells me that I'm doing the right thing, trying to attract the demon summoner's attention. I can help put a stop to this." She pulled back so she could look him in the eye, saw his dislike of the plan. Saw that he didn't want her to risk herself. "You can't ask me to quit now. Not after all this."

"Especially after all this, Rhia. Whatever happened at that house, it was so bad that the police aren't even saying anything about it. They've had the house blocked off for hours now. They haven't given the media any information at all. They haven't even said if it was the demon summoner."

"It was. If what I saw is what happened there, it was the demon. And I have to help put a stop to this. All those children, Nathaniel."

"They're gone, Rhia. Anything you do to stop the summoner won't bring them back. I know that's harsh and I'm sorry. But its the truth. And its also the truth that you're alive and I am selfish enough to want to keep you that way. Put this aside, Rhia. Let the police handle it. Don't risk your life. I don't want to lose you. I don't want to find out what happens when I lose you. Don't make me find that out."

Coming from any other man, the plea would have sounded more like orders. Demands. But it was Nathaniel and he would never tell her what to do. She loved that about him. But he just didn't understand that she could do something to help. And she couldn't sit back and let anyone else die. She needed to stop the demon summoner. It was coded into everything fiber of her being, one of the basic tenets of her beliefs. What the summoner was doing was foul and unnatural. She had to stop him.

Even if that meant getting herself killed in the process...