The Mary Sue Virus: Beyond Death
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marysuevirusTitle: The Mary Sue Virus: Beyond Death
Chapter Sixty Nine: Live and Let Die
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: things are really getting going now. look for two or three more chapters in the next few days. cos... yeah.
The Mary Sue Virus: Beyond Death - Index Link
The paper in her hand crinkled loudly as her fingers tightened over it, hand almost curled completely into a fist. But there was nothing to feel. Nothing to give her a sense of what was going on. Nothing to help her find a missing friend. "Fuck!" she snarled, her clenched hand slamming down on the hard surface of the table with enough force to leave it aching.
"Rhia. Stop. You're going to hurt yourself if you keep this up," Nathaniel's soft voice filled her ear just a moment before his hands curled around hers. He pried the paper from her grasp, setting it aside so that he could study the part of her hand she'd pounded against the table. "This isn't helping. It isn't helping Aedan and it isn't helping you."
"It has to help," she told him. She didn't bother to keep the tears out of her voice. She tried to hold on to the guilt. It didn't matter, though. He heard it. The look on his face told her he had. He lifted his hand and cupped her cheek, let his thumb stroke across the upper curve of it gently.
"This isn't your fault, Rhia," he said gently.
"It feels like it," she responded.
"You were angry with her. And you were justified in being angry. There was nothing wrong with not wanting to talk to her. I can't imagine what it was like for you that night, watching her die and not being able to stop it."
"Yes, you can," she whispered. She saw a flicker of something like regret cross his face, then he was pulling her in to hug her tight.
"There's a difference between Anita and Aedan. I wasn't there the night Anita died. There wasn't anything I could have done because of the distance. You were there the night Aedan gave herself to the demon. And he wounded her so badly that only medical professionals could help," he replied. "Watching a friend do that would make me mad, too. It might make me feel like there was nothing to say to them. You had every right to protect yourself like that. But that doesn't mean that someone kidnapped her because you were angry. Someone kidnapped her because they're a horrible, mean person. Not anything you did."
"But maybe if I'd been talking to her, Nathaniel, she'd have mentioned something to me. Maybe we could have prevented this." She knew it was an excuse, that she was looking for something to lessen the guilt she felt. And she knew that Nathaniel was right, that what had happened wasn't her fault. But knowing that didn't stop her from feeling that it was.
"If she hadn't mentioned anything out of the ordinary to Jean Claude or Edward, what makes you think she'd have mentioned it to you?" he asked her, tone filled with patience.
"I--" She trailed off. She honestly had no idea what made her think Aedan would have told her anything. Especially after she'd given the woman the idea that she didn't want to have anything to do with her anymore. Rhia frowned and glared balefully at the crumpled paper. "I'm supposed to be one of Cassandra's heirs. The last Oracle. I should be able to See where she is. I should be able to get something."
"Maybe you'd get something if you didn't try to force it," he reminded her. Then he gave her a look that held equal measures of pity and sadness. "Maybe, this time, you aren't meant to get anything. That's something you have to consider, Rhia."
"I refuse to accept that, Nathaniel. If I can't use this gift to save the people I care about, what good is it? I couldn't find Micah when he was taken. Now I can't find Aedan. Its a useless gift if it doesn't show me who's holding her and where."
Nathaniel gave her a look before reaching out to take her hands. "Rhia, you should know that this isn't a gift you can order to do what you want it to. It shows you what it feels you need to know. That's all. You can't force it to show you anything. You can't bend it to your will. You just have to let it come and trust that it will give you what you need to help. And if it doesn't... Then you have to trust it knows what its doing and let that be good enough."
"I can't let that be good enough, Nathaniel. Not if they kill her," she retorted.
Ignoring the look he was giving her, the one that held pity and sadness and a little bit of disbelief, Rhia reached out for the paper once more. The words Aedan had written just over a week ago were still vibrant and stark, neat slashes of black ink against bright white. Rhia stared at them, felt guilt rise up inside. Aedan had been willing to die to keep her safe. She just couldn't understand why the other woman would do that. Friendship shouldn't have been a strong enough motivation. And she felt like a horrible friend for ignoring Aedan the way she had.
She laid her fingers against the print, felt the tiny indentations where the tip of the pen had rolled against the paper. And felt nothing else. Frustration ate at her.
Maybe she was too tired to get a proper vision. It had been more than twelve hours since Edward had called them all together, had told them point blank that Aedan had been taken. Had accused them without saying a word of making it possible. Naturally she hadn't been able to sleep when she'd returned to her apartment. Explaining to Nathaniel just what Edward had wanted had been more difficult than she'd expected. Even more difficult had been the absolute silence of her gift.
She stared at the paper. Saw that night all over again. Imagined that whoever had taken Aedan was inflicting upon her the same kind of pain the demon had. Rhia didn't realize she'd closed her eyes, that she'd started crying, until a drop splashed against the back of her hand and startled her eyes open. The paper was crumpled up in her hand once again.
Her hands shook as she reached out and tried to smooth the paper down. It was a nervous gesture, something to do with her hands so she wouldn't have to think. Even if only for a second or two. Her actions were interrupted by Nathaniel, who set a plate and a glass before her. The plate had an assortment of fruit, as well as cubed meats and cheeses on it. The glass was filled with juice. "You need to eat, Rhia. I haven't seen you eat since last night. You can't seek visions on an empty stomach."
She stared at the plate before her and felt her tummy gurgle. She was too upset to eat. Turning to look at Nathaniel, she offered him a faint smile. "I don't think I can stomach anything right now. I'm way too worried to want to eat. But thank you."
"You need to try, Rhia. You can't run for very long on an empty stomach," he said, tone reproachful. He softened his mothering tone with a tender press of his lips to her temple. She was, briefly, enveloped in the fresh, clean scent of vanilla. It went a long way toward calming her down.
Dutifully, Rhia picked up a grape and popped it into her mouth. Nathaniel waited and watched as she chewed it up and swallowed it down. Doing so seemed to satisfy him because he nodded and wandered off, leaving her to her own thoughts. Rhia's eyes went back to the crumpled paper, her hand reaching almost absently for another grape. Maybe Nathaniel was right. Maybe she wasn't meant to See what was happening with Aedan. But that didn't mean she couldn't try to See something else...
Decision made, she reached out and took hold of the paper one more time. Made sure her fingers were settled on the ink. She had no trouble feeling the grooves made by the tip of Aedan's pen when she wrote it. Rhia put another bite into her mouth, this time a small cube of cheddar, and chewed thoughtfully as she stared at the paper. Please, Mother Goddess, if you're listening... Please help me See something.
Nothing happened, despite Rhia's earnest and heart-felt plea. She wanted to be disappointed. But there was no time for the feeling because the world simply slipped away and she was left swimming in a thick fog that felt oddly like memory stretching around her. But how could it be her memory? She was damn certain she'd never been part of this memory.
There was the feel of stone beneath her feet, cold and smooth and worn with the passage of many people. Instinct told her she was barefoot, though she couldn't figure out why. And she could hear someone talking, though the voice was muffled and distorted. Likely by the fog. It was a man's voice, and it droned on endlessly in a litany of words that she didn't recognize at first. But the more he went on, the more she picked up and understood.
He was praying. His words were soft murmurs of devotion and worship. To a God she didn't believe in.
A religious fanatic. She was caught up in the prayers of a religious fanatic. He wore clothes that were bland and plain, that didn't quite fit him well. His feet were bare, explaining why she felt the smooth stone beneath her own toes. He knelt before a thin cot, knees settled on a folded up square that she decided must be the blanket off the cot, his back to her. He had his hands pressed together, elbows resting on the edge of the bed, and his head was bowed ever so slightly. Blonde hair, hanging sort of longish and looking terribly unkempt, brushed his shoulders and shone dully in the dim light of the bulb.
A door opened, bringing her head around to her left. Someone entered, though their face was hidden by shadows and fog. The man stopped praying, but didn't bother to turn and look at the newcomer. She got the sense that there was something familiar between the two of them. She wasn't sure she could place what it might be. Silence held for a moment, then the man spoke again. "Well?"
"It is done," a woman's voice told him.
"You're sure?"
"Yes," the woman replied. Something about her voice felt familiar to Rhia, as if she'd heard it before. But it was distorted in the fog, thicker and deeper and accented. "The hunter is here, trying to find her."
"Did you see them take her?" the man asked.
"I did," the woman confirmed. "What do we do now?"
"We wait. Soon the spell will be broken. When it is, you will help me leave this place. And you'll have that which you desire most in the world," the man said.
The woman waited a little bit, almost as if she wanted to say something. But she remained silent, eventually turning and leaving the room. The door shut firmly behind her. And there was the sharp, thick sound of a lock turning into place. The man went back to his prayers, as if the woman had never interrupted.
Rhia found herself back in her own body so suddenly that she nearly fell from her chair. Nathaniel was there to take hold of her, to make sure she didn't hit the ground, and he gently pressed the glass of cold juice into her hands. "What did you See, Rhia?" he asked quietly.
"Conspirators," she whispered hoarsely, sipping at the juice to wet her throat. "A man and a woman. I think they were talking about Aedan. But none of it made sense."
"Was it anything solid that Edward or Jean Claude could use?" he questioned.
"I... I don't know." Rhia frowned and shook her head. "There were no names mentioned. Nothing that said it was specifically about Aedan. But I can't shake the feeling that it was. And that I was meant to See it. I think it just happened recently, too. But I don't know for certain."
"Then I think we need to head over to the Circus. I imagine both Jean Claude and Edward will want to hear this. We'll let them decide if its worth looking into or not," Nathaniel replied with a soft smile. Rhia nodded and rose from the chair, snagging a couple more bites off the plate, and let Nathaniel lead her toward the door.
Sweet Goddess, let this news be helpful.
~*~*~*~*~
"Conspirators?" Micah asked softly, his glance shifting from Jason to the bed. Minette was curled up under the covers. She'd given in to sleep, exhausted from trying to keep herself closed off from Aedan. She'd been mostly successful, but there had been occasions where she'd been unable to keep the barrier up between them and she'd suffered through some of what Aedan's captors were doing to the woman. He frowned and considered it. "What do Jean Claude and Edward think of that idea?"
Jason gave him a look. "You know how they both are. Neither one of them was really forth coming with opinions or anything. However, I don't know that Jean Claude is entirely sold, though he hasn't put the idea from him. Edward, on the other hand, is probably giving it consideration. He's said from the minute he got here that there was something off about the whole thing. Rhia's vision may just prove him right."
Micah stared at him for a minute. "What do you think?"
The question seemingly startled Jason. Micah figured it was mostly because people generally didn't ask him his opinions. He was more than content to let them think he was a dumb blonde intent on chasing women. Most people didn't know just how intelligent and thoughtful Jason could be. After a moment or two of silence, Jason frowned and shook his head. "I don't know. I haven't really given it much thought. I know Jean Claude wants to think this is to do with the people who want her dead, but I'm with Edward on it. It happened so suddenly. And really out of the blue. It doesn't really feel like something a person who wanted her dead would do. Why not just kill her and leave her there to be found? They'd already picked off her guards. It would have been easy to do the same to her."
Micah allowed his own frown to come. "Except they wouldn't just shoot her from a distance. They'd make it up close and personal, like they did with Anita. They'd make a show of it. Because it seems they want Jean Claude to suffer. I mean, that's what Anita's death felt like to me."
Jason nodded thoughtfully. "So you think that maybe Edward's theory is correct and this has nothing to do with the people who want Aedan dead?"
"Its starting to sound like it more and more," Micah replied.
A faint whisper of sound saw both men turning their heads toward the bed, putting an end to the speculative conversation. Minette was shifting under the covers, letting them know that whatever was happening to Aedan was leaking through the shields. Jason got up and headed for the bed. The wolf settled on the edge of the mattress and reached out a hand to lay against her shoulder. Minette didn't stop moving, nor did she stop whimpering. That told Micah that it was likely a bad session on the other end.
"Minette, shhhh. Its okay," Jason said, even though they both knew it was futile. She'd whimper and moan until Aedan was left unconscious or her captors broke off. One of the drawbacks of the two women being bound together by Jean Claude's marks. Then again, Micah couldn't imagine what this was doing to the vampire. He had no doubt that if Minette was having problems with it, so was Jean Claude.
The whimpers lasted a few more minutes, filling the silence of the room with their pained, mournful sound. Micah drifted toward the bed in the hopes that adding his touch to her skin would see Minette settle. It didn't. All it did was allow him to feel the fine tremors racing along her muscles. It took a while for her to settle. When she did, she was sweaty and limp. She lay there a moment or two, then opened her eyes and stared up at them blankly. This close, it was easy to see the ghost of the other woman's pain clouding her gaze. Minette blinked and tears rolled down her cheeks.
"Its okay, Minette. Its okay," he offered, despite the fact that it wasn't. And they knew it wasn't.
"They're hurting her, Micah," she whispered. He watched as she dragged herself into a sitting position. Her hands shook as she ran them through her hair, as she used them to wipe the tears off her face.
"I know," he replied. "I wish there was something I could do to make it stop."
"We need to find her," she told him.
"Edward is working on that," Jason assured her. Then he tugged her into his hold and hugged her tight. She wrapped her arms around him, allowed him to give her that comfort. Micah joined them and put his chest to her back. She was still shaking.
"He needs to work faster," Minette said, voice muffled and hoarse from being pressed against Jason's chest. "I don't know how much more of this she can take."
Jason glanced at Micah over her head, eyes seeking advice or words of wisdom. Micah could do and say nothing. He was fresh out of them. To be honest, he wished he was out looking for Aedan. When their positions had been reversed, she hadn't rested until she'd found him. It felt like a slap in her face that he wasn't doing everything he could to track down the people who took her and repay them in kind for what they'd done to her. Just as she had done for him.
"Aedan is one of the strongest people I know," Jason told her, taking a moment to press a kiss to the top of her head. "She knows we're looking for her. She'll do what she has to in order to hang on. She knows you want her to come home. She knows you're scared and you miss her. She knows you love her."
"How can she know that when the last time I spoke to her, I was horrible to her?" Minette asked, fresh tears in her voice.
Micah copied Jason's move and pressed a kiss to the back of Minette's head. "She knows because she loves you, too."
~*~*~*~*~
"Please stop torturing yourself, mon ange. She loves you," Asher said gently, staring at Janika's profile. She could feel his gaze locked on her because she refused to look at him. They were at her apartment, sitting side by side on her couch. For all the mental distance between them, it might as well have been a world away. Janika wanted to move to the other side of the couch, to put a literal distance between them. But doing so would hurt Asher and she'd already hurt someone she loved with her actions. She wasn't going to do the same to Asher if she could help it.
"You're so sure about that?" she asked, disbelief in her voice.
"Of course I am. Do you think she would have reacted so harshly to your words if she did not?" He reached out and curled his fingers around her chin, then gently turned her face toward him. She was sure her eyes were full of her doubt, and the fear that she couldn't make go away.
"This is Aedan we're talking about. She reacts badly to someone telling her she has to leave her gun behind," Janika reminded him. Her words brought a faint smile to his face, but it faded and he lifted his other hand, used both of them to frame her face between his palms. His touch was soothing and gentle, his skin warm against hers.
"Yes, Aedan is prickly. And stubborn. And easily angered. But she also loves deeply. And she will do anything she has to to keep her friends safe. And I assure you, she loves you. And she would not want you to sit here and lay any blame for what happened on your own head," he assured her.
"I'm not blaming myself," she denied. The smile he gave her told her he didn't believe her.
"Just as I am not blaming myself for not going into the diner sooner. Or arriving at the diner sooner. Or even asking her to meet me there. I should have gone to her office and simply talked with her there. She would want me blaming myself no more than she would want you to," he told her.
"This isn't your fault, Asher," she told him immediately. She wasn't sure why Asher had asked her to meet him at some diner in the middle of the night, but she knew it wasn't his fault that something had happened.
"Nor is it yours," he returned. Then he gave her a searching look. "Unless you are the one who arranged for her to be kidnapped out of that diner last night."
"Don't be an ass. Of course I didn't," she responded, a hint of laughter in her voice. She watched as he smiled at her. One of his hand stroked her hair away from her face.
"Then you have no reason to feel guilt."
"And neither do you," she returned.
"And yet, we both blame ourselves. Such is the nature of humanity when something horrible happens to people we care about," he said gently. She allowed him to wrap his arms around her and pull her close, allowed him to hug her to his chest. "We will find her, Janika. And we will bring her home. Jean Claude and Edward will not rest until they do so. And I have heard that Rhiannon has had some kind of vision that may be of use in discovering how the kidnapping was planned."
Janika frowned. He made it sound as if it someone they knew was responsible for what had taken place. "An inside job?"
"If Rhiannon's vision is to be believed, yes."
"What did she see?" she asked, interested despite herself.
"That, I do not know. I was not involved in the meeting she had with Jean Claude."
"Why not?" Janika frowned. Why would Jean Claude leave Asher out of such a meeting. He had feelings for Aedan, too.
"Because I was not at the Circus when Rhiannon arrived," he replied, giving her a smile. "I was on my way here to see you. To make you feel better and perhaps make you smile. I know that this is difficult for you. I did not want you to be alone."
Janika returned his smile. "I'm glad you're here," she admitted. If she was being honest, she'd been kind of going crazy trying to wrap her head around everything that had happened. Asher made her feel solid and steady. And she really needed that after the past week.
"There is no where else I would rather be, mon ange," he told her. Asher pressed a kiss to her lips, letting her know without words that he meant what he said, then leaned back and gave her a stare. "Tell me how things are going with your mother."
"They're wonderful!" she returned, not even having to think about it. She'd often wondered, over the years, what it would be like to reunite with her family. Her mother, especially. Part of her had worried, rightly so, that a reunion would be marred with anger and shouting and hurtful words. But that hadn't happened. None of her imaginings could ever compare with the real thing. The shine and wonder of their initial meeting at the restaurant hadn't dulled at all. In fact, it had strengthened since that night. "I can't ever repay you or thank you enough for giving me my mother back."
"Anything to put a smile on your beautiful face," he said warmly.
"I've been thinking a lot lately about what she told me at dinner that night. About being able to unbind my magic if that's what I wanted."
Asher gave her a look. "What have you been thinking?"
"That I want her to do it," she told him, hating that she sounded hesitant about it all. He'd told her mother that her decision wouldn't matter to him, but that didn't mean she wasn't uncertain about it all. Because if she had magic, it would change things between them. She was certain of that. "I want her to undo the binding. But I don't want it to cause problems between us or anything. I don't want to do it if you're going to have problems or be uncomfortable with it."
"Janika, have you not realized by now that I would never stand in the way of anything that would make you happy? All I wish is for you to be happy. If having your mother unbind your magic will please you, then it will please me. I love you for who you are. Not for any other reason. Your magic is as much a part of you as the color and length of your hair or the shape of your mouth or the soft sigh you give when I have very thoroughly kissed you." As if to punctuate his words, he leaned in and kissed her as thoroughly as he ever had. And she promptly sighed like the lovesick fool she was. It brought a smile to his face. "Yes. That one. If you have your mother unbind your magic, that will only be another part of your whole. And it will not change my feelings for you."
"You're sure?" she asked, making sure he had the opportunity to change his mind if that was what he wanted to do.
"I am certain, Janika. Magic or not, I will still love you the same as I do now. Nothing will change that," he vowed quietly. The look in his eyes was filled with promise and love and it sent shivers up her spine.
"I don't want to do something that will end up costing me your affections. It isn't worth it to have magic if I lose you," she told him.
"That is not likely to happen, my love, as we are tied to one another now," he said, voice low and soft and seductive. "And nothing short of death will change that."
She almost responded to the last of his statement, but then her mind registered everything he'd said and she halted. Blinked up at him in astonishment. "I'm sorry. Can you say that again?"
"Nothing short of death will change that," he repeated. She stared a moment, trying to decide if he really thought she'd wanted him to repeat the last thing he said to her or if he was merely pulling her leg. She finally decided he was having one over on her and she shot him a glare to let him know she didn't appreciate it.
"Not that, you butt. The other bit," she instructed, using a finger to motion back in an effort to get him to go further back in his statement.
"You mean the part where I called you my love?" he asked, one corner of his mouth quirking up knowingly.
"Yes. That part," she nodded.
He offered her a broad smile. "Do you think I lied to your mother when I told her that I love you more than life itself?"
"I... don't know, actually," she admitted. She hadn't really given it any thought. Not to mention, she'd still been too stunned by her mother being there in the flesh to really pay attention to what Asher had said.
"You are dearer to me than anything, Janika. More precious than life. I love you as I have loved no other. Nothing will change that," he told her gently. She could hear in his voice that he meant it. More than that, she could feel through their link that he was telling her the truth. She couldn't help the tears that welled up in her eyes. Rolled down her cheeks.
Asher reached out and stroked the droplets of moisture away with his thumbs, giving her a tender look. "There's no reason to cry, mon ange. I did not mean to make you sad."
"These are happy tears, you dork," she told him, laughter bubbling up when he gave her a look that said he was offended at being called a dork.
"Shall I show you a dork?" he asked. She heard the determination in his voice. Never got a chance to answer his question. Because he was dragging her into his lap so that he could press another kiss to her lips. Not the kind that left her sighing, but the kind that left her hungry and needy. She straddled his thighs, wrapped her arms around his neck. Snuggled closer. Felt the instant reaction his body had to being pressed so tightly against her own. Reveled in her ability to make him hot and hard for her.
His tongue delved into her mouth, probed deep. She curled her fingers in his hair, rubbed herself enticingly against his erection. Begged for more without saying a word. She was rewarded by Asher gripping her tight and rising to his feet. When he was standing, she wrapped her legs around his waist. His hands curled over her butt and then he was moving. He carried her toward the bedroom effortlessly, settled her down on the bed, and paid homage to her with his hands and his lips and his teeth and his tongue.
And later, much later, after he'd stripped her naked and paid homage again, he slid himself into her and made long, slow, sweet love to her. Janika fell asleep that night, fully sated, with Asher wrapped tightly around her.
~*~*~*~*~
Isis stood in the parking lot, staring at the bright light pouring from the diner's windows. There were maybe a handful of people inside the place, laughing and talking and staring at their phones while they scooped up food from their plates and generally passed the time. A single waitress moved about the place with easy authority, bringing plates and refreshing drinks and laughing along with her patrons. It was, all in all, a kind of cozy looking place. And it was very much out of the way, which explained why Asher had asked Aedan to meet him there.
Oddly, the corner where she knew Aedan's Jeep had been parked was empty. As was the space next to it, which was where the SUV belonging to her rodere bodyguards had been waiting. She wandered closer, letting her senses stretch and seek out anything out of the ordinary. It almost felt like there was a pall cast over that corner of the lot, a lingering sense of sadness and violence that people would feel subconsciously. That would encourage them to park elsewhere.
Something was off about this whole kidnapping thing. She'd listened to Edward as he'd told her and the others everything they knew. Which wasn't really that much. And it had felt off to her then. To be honest, she felt that Edward had found it off, too. But whatever he thought about it, he'd kept to himself. Isis had wanted to pay a visit to the diner last night, as soon as she'd found out, but it hadn't been possible. First, because the girls had been there for some time, asking questions. Second, because Damian had asked her not to go without him. He hadn't needed to give voice to his feelings for her to know and understand that he was worried about what might happen to her if she went alone.
Unfortunately, the passage of time had dimmed the scents that she needed. She could only catch the faintest whiff of Aedan where her Jeep had been parked. A good deal of blood and death where the SUV had been parked. Not much else. She couldn't even detect the smell of gun powder. She wasn't that surprised, though, because she knew that the actual shots had come from another lot entirely. There would have only been trace amounts to find around the SUV.
"You have not found anything, have you?" Damian asked her quietly. Isis turned to stare at him, then frowned and shook her head.
"No. Nothing that will help. I can barely smell Aedan here," she motioned to the space with one hand. "Most of what I'm getting is the rats and their death. Not much where Aedan is concerned."
"I get little here, also," he admitted. She watched as his head turned, gaze shifting to look off the lot in the direction from which they'd been told the shots had come. He stared a moment or two, then brought his head around and looked the other direction. "I do not think her captors would bring her all the way over here. The chance of being seen by someone would be too great. They would likely have attempted to park as closer to the building as possible."
Isis nodded. 'That makes sense. Easier to get her into a car and get away. Faster." She let her gaze skim over the lot, finally picking out a spot that wasn't really a parking space. It was almost too narrow for anything other than a compact car. And there was a big pot hole there. She pointed toward it. "There. Its empty tonight. It was probably empty last night. That hole looks nasty and would probably do some serious damage to a car's suspension."
Damian studied it a moment, then nodded his head. "I agree. It would be a good place to leave a vehicle running. A good place to park in order to make off with an unconscious victim." He started toward the empty spot. Isis fell into step with him and, together, they crossed toward the parking space.
"Do you think we'll find anything there?" she asked him.
"If we do, I do not know that it will be of any help. It will only confirm a theory," he replied.
"Maybe, but it would be another step toward finding her," she said softly.
The spot was right next to the diner, only a few steps from the door. It looked like few people ever parked in it because getting out would be tight. Both from the vehicle and from the space. It was conveniently set away from one of the two lights in the lot, leaving it mostly in shadows despite the lights from the interior of the diner shining through the windows. Isis took a deep breath, drawing lingering scents into her lungs. Something odd tickled her nose. "I smell... something like incense?" she said, not at all certain that that's what she smelled.
"It is incense," Damian confirmed. "It is a type that is used in church rituals."
Isis frowned. "Religious ceremonies? Who would come to this place after a religious ceremony? This is out of the way and not a very hot spot. No one would come here after just leaving a church. Not even on a Sunday morning."
"I am not sure. Perhaps the kidnappers are deeply religious?" he suggested.
"That doesn't make sense to me. Why would a deeply religious person kidnap someone?" she asked.
"Why would a deeply religious person invade another country and wage war against the people who live there?" he countered. Isis stared at him. Damian stared back.
"You're right, of course. Being religious doesn't exclude a person from doing bad things. They just feel they have a justification for doing bad things," she sighed. "But I don't know how that helps us. There are a lot of churches in the city. And I'm sure quite a few of them use incense. So that kind of puts us back at square one."
"I fear you are right," Damian agreed.
"Help you folks?" a voice asked from the side of the building. Isis and Damian looked up to find an aging man with dark skin leaning up against the wall of the diner. The cherry from his cigarette glowed brightly as he drew smoke into his lungs.
Isis stared at him a moment. He wore a plain t-shirt and a pair of old jeans under a white apron that was stained with grease and other things. She pegged him as the diner's cook. "You come out here every night?" she questioned.
"Every night on my break," he nodded.
"Were you here last night?" she asked, moving closer. The man stared at her for a few seconds before his gaze slid to Damian behind her.
"Why do you wanna know?"
"I'm looking into my friend's disappearance. She was here last night," Isis explained.
"The one that fed were here asking questions about?"
"Yes. That one. I just want to know if you were here last night. And, if you were, if you may have seen anything out of the ordinary."
The man took one last drag off his cigarette, then tossed it down and stepped on it to put it out. "Yeah. I was here last night. I was standing right here when some big guy comes out of the diner dragging a limp form with him."
"Did you see what he looked like?" she asked, doing her best to keep anything from her voice. There was no guarantee that he was telling the truth about any of it. She didn't want to let him know his words were getting her hopes up.
"Nope. Too dark. But the car he got into was in that empty spot. Which is why I noticed it. No one parks in that spot. Bad things happen to people who have parked in that spot," the man replied.
"Can you tell me what the car looks like?"
"It was a dark sedan. Four doors. Almost didn't fit in the spot. The man shoved the limp form into the back seat, then got in and started the engine, and pulled away. Headed off in that direction." The man pointed in the direction of the highway. That was interesting.
"Did you get a plate or anything?"
"Nope. Too dark," he repeated.
Isis frowned. It would have been such a big help if the cook had gotten the plate. She was pondering what to do next when Damian spoke. "What time was this? Do you remember?"
"Oh, yeah. Shortly before nine o'clock. I usually take my first smoke break at eight forty five and then go in at nine. I was just getting ready to go inside when the car pulled out of the lot." The man looked at his phone and frowned. "Speaking of which, I've got to get back to the grill. Did you folks need anything else?"
"No. Thank you. You've been really helpful," Isis told him. They watched him wander toward the back of the building, then disappear around the corner. When he was gone, she and Damian started back to her car. "So. Do we tell Edward?"
"Yes. Edward needs to know," Damian replied firmly. "He can get access to traffic cameras. Maybe that will give him something to work with."
"Yeah. But a dark sedan isn't much to go on. There have to be thousands of those in the city."
"How many of them were leaving this parking lot at nine last night?" Damian questioned lightly. Isis had to admit. He had a point there. It was doubtful that two dark sedans would have been leaving the lot at the same time. Damian opened her door for her, held it open so she could climb into the car. She smiled up at him when he shut it, then watched as he circled around the front to get in on the passenger side.
"So the plan is to go back to the Circus and tell Edward about the car. Then what?"
"I thought perhaps we could go to the movies," he suggested, holding up a hand to forestall any argument she might have made. "There is little else we can do until Edward or Jean Claude or someone locates Aedan. And until they do, I see no reason we have to sit in the corner and hide away. I am a centuries old Viking warrior. You are Regina of the pride. I believe we can handle just about anyone who attempts to do us harm."
"It doesn't feel right going out to the movies when I know that Aedan is suffering somewhere," Isis admitted to him.
"She would not want you to sit around and worry for her," he countered.
Isis considered it as she cranked the engine over. When it had idled down, she put the car in gear and pulled from the parking space. To be honest, the idea of a movie held some appeal. Especially if she got to watch one without the pride around to offer commentary on it. She loved movie nights with the pride, but there was only so much criticism and complaining she could take. And she had no doubt that Damian was right. Aedan wouldn't want her moping around the Circus, worrying over something she could do nothing about.
"You have a movie in mind?" she asked him, turning out onto the road.
"There is a new fantasy film playing. I thought perhaps you might like to go get lost in a fantasy world for a short while," he told her.
"Fantasy is good. Can we get popcorn?"
"Of course," he smiled.
"Goobers or Milk Duds? A giant sized Coke? Maybe a pretzel with cheese dip. And a pickle. A pickle sounds good."
"Whatever you like, Isis," Damian said around his chuckles. She flashed him a smile and signaled to turn onto the service road.
"Awesome!" she replied. Yeah. A movie sounded really good.
~*~*~*~*~
The thumping of the bass through the walls should have been distracting. It wasn't. At least, not in the way he'd have liked it to be. Instead, it annoyed him. Made him wish that the sun was up and he could sleep. Push all the little annoyances away from him for a short while. But it wasn't even past midnight yet and already he'd suffered a handful of bouts where Aedan's shields had slipped enough to allow him a brief glimpse into what was going on. To say he was displeased was an understatement.
Jean Claude put his head in his hands and tried to find his center of calm. He'd been alive for far too long for his control to be so poor. But he'd never been forced to live through the torture someone close to him was enduring. And if Aedan could endure it, he would do no less than the same. How he wanted to shut it all out.
Her torture was too close to the very things he'd been forced to live through so many years ago. If someone had once suggested to him that a life lived so long would still be subject to the lingering miseries brought about by abuse, he might have laughed in their face. But wasn't Asher living proof that one never let go of the horrors of their past lives? He disliked that he was falling victim to the suffering of a century past. And he disliked that Aedan would now have such memories to plague her for years to come.
Would that he could do something to end her torture, he'd have done it already. Instead, he was forced to sit back and suffer through the faint brushes of what she had to feel in full. It made functioning difficult. And he'd already started dreading the next bout, started dreading the horrible fear of the next round of abuse that lived within him.
He barely sensed the presence outside his door before the knock sounded on the wooden panel. He'd been so lost in thoughts and memories and fear, he'd almost missed an arriving guest. Taking a moment to get himself under control, he straightened in his chair and put on his blank face. "Enter," he called.
The door opened and one of the lycanthropes who worked at the club stepped into his office. "You have a visitor," the wolf said before stepping back out. The large form of Zerbrowski filled the frame, then stepped into the office. Jean Claude managed a faint smile, then nodded at the wolf. The door closed and the two men were alone.
"Good evening, Detective. Please," he said, motioning to the chairs before his desk. "Have a seat. What brings you to Guilty Pleasures once again?"
"I came to ask after Aedan. I've tried calling her phone a couple times today and its gone to voice mail. I hope she's okay," the man said as he settled into a chair. He looked rumpled, much the same as he had the last time Jean Claude had seen him. There was a dark stain on his blue tie that looked suspiciously like barbeque sauce. The shirt beneath was pale yellow and wrinkled. His suit coat was brown and his pants were a shade lighter than his tie. Jean Claude considered, for just a moment, asking him if he dressed that way intentionally to make people underestimate him or if his fashion sense was simply that atrocious. But he kept the question to himself and concentrated instead on the reason for the man's visit.
"I have instituted a telephone ban for the foreseeable future. Aedan has been pushing herself far too hard of late. I want her to fully rest up and she cannot do that if her phone rings. She is on leave from Animators, Inc. for a few weeks and I have instructed her to do nothing but laze about and recover."
Zerbrowski gave him a look that fully suggested Jean Claude was being an authoritarian asshat and could shove his instructions where the sun didn't shine. "And she's okay with that?" he asked instead.
"She is, Detective. Because if she does not rest, she will be of no use to you or your boss or anyone else. Her unique talents require an enormous amount of energy. Tell me, Detective," he paused, leveling a look on the other man. "Do you think Aedan has been able to fully rest and relax over the past few months? Or do you perhaps believe she has been pushing herself far too hard in her duties?"
Zerbrowski stared at him a moment, then sighed. It made it sound as if the man was reluctantly conceding defeat. "She's been pushing herself from day one."
"Yes. She has. And perhaps she can hide it from you for a time. But she cannot hide it from me. She and I are bound together and I can feel it when her exhaustion reaches dangerous levels." Jean Claude didn't bother to tell him that such a thing only happened if Aedan allowed him to feel it.
"But to cut her off from her cell phone?" the man asked. His tone said he still hadn't bought Jean Claude's story. He supposed that Detective Zerbrowski wouldn't be a very good detective if his instincts didn't tell him when something sounded or felt off. Be that as it may, Jean Claude was not about to tell the man that they were presently scrambling in an effort to find out who had kidnapped Aedan. Edward had agreed with Jean Claude's decision not to involve the local police. Or any police, really. If it came to light later and anyone asked, they would be able to say that Edward, in his guise as Federal Marshal Ted Forrester, had been on the case from the very beginning. Which wasn't even a little bit of a lie.
Jean Claude gave a negligent shrug that meant nothing and everything all at once. "She is young, Detective. You know how young people are addicted to their cell phones. No doubt, if I hadn't enacted the ban, she would be playing some odd little game on it even as we speak. That is not the kind of rest she needs."
Zerbrowski stared a moment, then huffed out a humorless laugh. "You know, if I didn't know better, I'd swear you were being a dictator and keeping Aedan from us. Because my instincts are screaming that you're lying to my face. Granted, if you are, you're doing a damn good job because nothing shows. But you have to know that lying to the police makes you look very bad and guilty."
"What would I be guilty of, Detective?" Jean Claude asked and spread his hands in an expansive gesture that could be read anyway the man chose. "Protecting myself and my people? Aedan's good health, or bad, affects me and my people. It is in everyone's best interest if she is well rested."
"Not to sound like I'm being an offensive prick, because that isn't what I'm doing, but you're a vampire. Vampires aren't really known for being open and honest and forthcoming," Zerbrowski pointed out.
"No offense taken, Detective. I am well aware of the reputation my kind have. And much of it is well earned. But please understand that anything that befalls Aedan will befall me. The marks that bind us together guarantee it."
"Don't you think it was a little soon to mark her after Anita?" The man's tone made him sound like an overly concerned father. It actually warmed his heart to know that someone cared enough about Aedan to want to protect her.
"That choice was not made by either myself or Aedan. It was made for us," Jean Claude replied.
"Aedan said something about Anita dumping her crap on her shoulders. That was one of those things?" Zerbrowski asked, and he sounded skeptical. As many people did. There were times when Jean Claude still had difficulty accepting it.
"That was one of those things. When she was dying, she passed her powers and a great many other things on to Aedan. One of those things happened the be the marks I gave to Anita some time ago. She effectively gave Aedan to me. If you wish to take that up with anyone, you should take it up with Anita."
"If I could..." Zerbrowski said, trailing off before he finished his statement. "I still feel like you're keeping something from me. And I don't like that. I don't like that someone who claims to have Aedan's best interests at heart would hide things from me. It makes me think you are capable of doing her harm."
Jean Claude smiled and settled back against his chair, staring at the man intently. He made note that Zerbrowski didn't look at his face, instead focused on his shoulder. It looked as if he was taking every precaution. Aedan could do worse than have someone like him looking out for her. "I find it admirable that you wish to protect her, Detective. But bringing harm to Aedan would only bring harm to myself. I am not inclined to do such a thing. I am very pragmatic, after all." He paused and gave the man a good look. "She could find no better a friend. She could find no better father."
The compliment must have taken the other man by surprise, because he sat up in his chair and blinked in confusion. It was likely he hadn't been expecting it. It was likely the man had been expecting a fight of some sort. "Thank you."
"Believe me when I say, Detective, that I would tell you if anything was amiss. Aedan needs someone like you in her life. I get the impression, from what little she's told me, that her life before coming here is one she would rather forget. I hope to one day find out why. But for now, I am pleased to know that someone cares enough about her to look out for her best interests."
"Someone needs to do it. Because she won't," the man replied.
"In that assessment, you are very correct," Jean Claude returned with a faint smile.
Zerbrowski sighed and rose from his seat. He didn't sound happy, and he looked like he really didn't want to leave. "Since I've got your word that Aedan is okay, I guess I'll take my leave," he said. Then he leveled a look on Jean Claude that promised all kinds of pain. "But if I find out you're lying to me, if I find out you're hiding things and Aedan is hurt, I will come back and we'll talk about it. And I might just have to bring a pair of silver cuffs with me when I do."
"Threats, Detective? And here I thought we were becoming fast friends," Jean Claude replied with a touch of a grin on his lips. The man looked at him a moment, then shook his head. "I promise you, Detective, that Aedan is well and you have no reason to worry."
The man grunted in response before making his way to the door. He let himself out without another word or a backward glance. Jean Claude waited a few minutes before allowing himself to slump back in his chair. He didn't like that the good detective was suspicious. But it wasn't as if he could tell him that Aedan had been kidnapped. The man wouldn't have taken it well. He would have demanded to know why he hadn't been told. What they were doing to find Aedan. He would have asked questions that Jean Claude wouldn't have been able to answer.
Frowning, he tried to put the visit behind him. He would have to have Aedan call him when she was returned to them, and rested up from all the torture. However long that would take. She'd already endured two days of it. How many more before they could bring her home? What kinds of tortures would her captors subject her to? How would he explain it if something happened and she didn't come back?
He didn't like the fact that he didn't have answers to those questions. Nor did he like that there were a million more plaguing him. He wished he could find a way to make the questions stop. To bring Aedan home before the damage was beyond repair.
He wished he could bring her back so he could hold her in his arms and tell her that he'd missed her. That he'd been afraid for her. That he cared for her. Deeply.
When would the madness subside? When would they be able to live their lives and not worry about someone else for a change?
~*~*~*~*~
Edward stared at the cup of coffee in his hands, trying desperately to make sense of all the little tidbits running around in circles in his head. Despite having been gathering information for four solid days, he still hadn't been able to make much sense of it. At least, not in a way that got him answers. It was making him crazy and the urge to simply hurt something grew exponentially as the days passed.
First, there was Rhia's vision. He'd never really been one to believe in magic, even though Anita had used it. Even thought Aedan currently used it. Even though he'd been around enough vampires and shifters to know that it really was something that existed. Those were all tangible things, things he could touch to prove they were real. But Rhia's vision was something a little less solid. Something a little more impossible to believe.
Of course she and Nathaniel had come to him immediately after she'd had it so they could share it with him. If what she'd seen was to be believed, whoever was responsible for Aedan's disappearance had had inside information about where she was going to be that night. That pointed to someone who lived under the Circus or spent a good deal of time there. An inside job felt like it fit better than the kidnapping being random did. Or being tied to the threats made against Aedan's life did. The problem was her vision hadn't been able to give her a clear picture of who it was he should be looking at.
So, while the idea that someone who knew Aedan fairly intimately was responsible for her kidnapping in one way or another was feasible, finding out who that person might be was proving difficult because who was going to admit such a thing to his face? Everyone under the Circus knew what would happen if he found out one of them had had a part in Aedan's disappearance. That made investigating all the more difficult. If he could just figure out what her vision had meant, that might make it easier for him to figure out who under the Circus would risk his and Jean Claude's ire by doing such a thing.
He might have been willing to write the whole idea off, if not for the fact that Asher had told him that he'd been here under the Circus when he'd made the arrangements with Aedan. And he'd been alone in his room at the time. Which only served to strengthen the idea that the kidnapping was an inside job. It meant someone had overheard Asher's end of the conversation. Given how thick the walls and the doors were, only someone with enhanced hearing would have been able to overhear that conversation. That kind of effectively cut humans out of the equation. But there were so many vampires and lycanthropes under the Circus at any given time that the suspect pool really hadn't been narrowed by much.
And if Asher's story about being here when he'd made plans wasn't enough, Isis had apparently done her own investigating. And she'd found something worth considering. The cook at the diner had seen someone get into a car with a limp form shortly before Asher had arrived at the diner that night. Which might not have been worth noting, save for the fact that he'd made a point of saying the person had parked their car right next to the diner. In a spot that was really too small for a car. That suggested someone looking for a fast get away. Edward was ashamed to admit that he'd missed it. He should have talked to the cook. He hadn't.
The information Isis had brought to him was more than enough to have him asking an acquaintance to grab a look at the street cam footage that had been shot that night. The file he'd been sent had been a good chunk of footage of a dark sedan, either a deep blue or black, driving away from the diner and hopping on to the highway. The cameras had followed the car for a few miles, but had eventually lost it on some side streets. He was pretty sure that the car in the footage had been the one used to transport Aedan from the diner. But he had no confirmation as to that fact. And he had no clue where it had gone once it had gotten off the highway.
Which left him solidly back at square one.
Heaving a sigh, he got up and dumped his coffee out. It had long ago gone cold and he just wasn't in the mood for it. He was in the mood to hurt someone. To make something bleed and beg for mercy. Wouldn't it be lovely if he could find the inside party and take that mood out on them? Maybe a walk would help? The least it could do was clear the clutter from his mind and help him think things over clearly again.
There was a muted sense of sorrow clinging to the lair where Jean Claude made his home. As if the rock itself was saddened by Aedan's disappearance. Or maybe he was just too goddamn close to the case and his perspective was jaded. He had his own reasons for finding Aedan safe and as unharmed as possible, not the least of which was he considered her a friend. He didn't have many of those. He needed to keep the ones he had. Close or not, he had to find her and bring her home.
He let his feet lead him, let them take him in whichever direction they liked. His wandering saw him taking a lap around the gym, taking note of all the equipment Jean Claude had had installed after he'd taken over as Master of the City. He knew that Aedan sometimes trained on it, but not as often as she should. He knew that she didn't think it would help her defeat an enemy. Maybe she was right. But defeating an enemy wasn't the only goal she should try to achieve. Staying alive was ultimately the goal. Training would help keep her alive. Discipline would help keep her alive. And she needed both.
When he looked up, he found he'd left the gym and had wandered deeper into Jean Claude's underground lair. It wasn't a place he'd been before. But a quick glance behind a couple of the closed doors, none of which were locked, showed him empty stone rooms that came with their own sets of manacles and chains. One room had a handful of coffins in it, gleaming chains hanging off one of the walls. It didn't take much thought on his behalf to figure out that he was looking at cells. Places to hold prisoners and bad little vampires who made their master mad.
Edward paused and frowned. What was it Rhia had said about her vision? One of the people in it had been in a stone room. Like a cell. He stopped trying doors and simply moved from one to the next, listening through the door for anything that might be living on the other side. He'd almost completely exhausted his supply of doors when he finally hit pay dirt. He could hear a voice through the heavy wooden panel, very faintly. And it seemed to be... praying. Like a religious fanatic.
He was about to whip out his phone when some sixth sense saw him ducking into one of the empty cells. He almost completely closed the door, left it cracked the tiniest bit, and watched as a woman practically glided past the cell and went immediately to the door behind which he'd heard the praying. She unlocked the door, taking a moment to cast her gaze around as if making sure no one was spying on her. Then she ducked inside of the room and eased the door closed behind her.
Edward crept from out into the hallway and over to the door the woman had just gone through. He could hear the two of them through the door, the man's voice low and calm and steady while her voice was loud and anxious and filled with anger. Much of the conversation didn't make sense to him. Something about whores and spells. But the line that did catch his attention was spoken loud and clear. In a voice that was angry and hysterical, he heard the woman say: "You told me that if we got rid of her, he would love me. We got rid of her. And still he pines away for that insignificant little whore! You lied to me!"
Well. It looked like he'd found his inside man. Slowly, on silent feet, Edward crept back to the room he'd hidden in and slipped through the door. He pushed the wooden panel almost all the way shut and then pulled his phone from his pocket. After selecting a recipient, he sent a quick text, then watched the hall and waited for a response. It came before the woman left the cell and he wasn't surprised by the response he got.
He waited until the woman had left the cell and gone past his hiding place before he left it and headed across the hall to the door she'd just come out of. The key for the lock was kept on the wall next to the door, so it took him no time at all to unlock the door and step inside.
The man kneeling beside the cot didn't look up. Nor did he speak. He remained in his pious pose, lips moving as he continued to pray silently. It was only a few moments later that the door opened again. Not only did the woman enter the cell, but Jean Claude came in behind her.
"Jean Claude? What is the meaning of this?" she asked, gaze sliding around the cell as if she hadn't just seen it moments ago. Her eyes landed on him and Edward offered her the smile that made vampires crap themselves in fear. "Who are these people?"
"Funny you should ask such a question when I know you are very well acquainted with our guest," Jean Claude said, allowing the coldness to fill his voice. One hand motioned toward the prisoner, who had gained his feet and was watching them with a wary gaze. Then Jean Claude's hand swung his way. "And this, Gretel, is Edward. Perhaps you have heard of him before. His other name is Death."
Her eyes went wide at that, and she immediately turned them Jean Claude's way. "I do not understand. What--"
"Silence!' Jean Claude ordered, putting power into his voice. It made the woman cringe back in honest fear. "I will tolerate none of your lies. You have, by your own words, implicated yourself in Aedan's kidnapping. I will not let it stand. You will tell me where she is or I will hand you over to Death and he will force you to tell him. And I can promise you will not like his methods."
"That goes for you, too," Edward told the other man in the room. He stared at the three of them a moment, then offered a twisted smile.
"I am chosen. I am righteous. I am the Hand of God. There is nothing you can do to me. God will protect me. He will save me from your devious, demented plots. There is no place in Heaven for the wicked and the sinners. Your attempts to foul my belief and turn me from His path will be in vain. And the whore will die before you can find her."
"You know, I really am not happy that you called my friend a whore. I guess we'll have to do this the hard way. Unless you want to give it up, Gretchen," Edward turned toward her.
"You expect me to tell you anything? Pitiful mortal?" she spat at him, obviously putting up a front. She knew who he was, even if only by the stories whispered from one ear to the next in the dead of night.
"No. I don't expect you to do anything but be difficult. So I guess its a good thing I know so, so many ways to make people talk," Edward said, face utterly calm and blank. He turned to look at Jean Claude. I'm going to need some place to work. Some place private. Maybe an old, unused bathroom. Someplace with a hose and a drain will do, if you don't have a bathroom. Any room will work, so long as you don't care about how messy it'll get."
"I know just the place," Jean Claude told him. The door opened just then and Meng Die entered the room. "Chain her. Be sure she cannot escape her bonds. Then bring her."
Gretchen looked from Jean Claude to Meng Die, then back again. She might have said something but the smaller vampire took hold of her arms and shoved her toward the door. Her screams of rage echoed back up the hall.
They were like music to Edward's ears.
Chapter Sixty Nine: Live and Let Die
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: things are really getting going now. look for two or three more chapters in the next few days. cos... yeah.
The Mary Sue Virus: Beyond Death - Index Link
The paper in her hand crinkled loudly as her fingers tightened over it, hand almost curled completely into a fist. But there was nothing to feel. Nothing to give her a sense of what was going on. Nothing to help her find a missing friend. "Fuck!" she snarled, her clenched hand slamming down on the hard surface of the table with enough force to leave it aching.
"Rhia. Stop. You're going to hurt yourself if you keep this up," Nathaniel's soft voice filled her ear just a moment before his hands curled around hers. He pried the paper from her grasp, setting it aside so that he could study the part of her hand she'd pounded against the table. "This isn't helping. It isn't helping Aedan and it isn't helping you."
"It has to help," she told him. She didn't bother to keep the tears out of her voice. She tried to hold on to the guilt. It didn't matter, though. He heard it. The look on his face told her he had. He lifted his hand and cupped her cheek, let his thumb stroke across the upper curve of it gently.
"This isn't your fault, Rhia," he said gently.
"It feels like it," she responded.
"You were angry with her. And you were justified in being angry. There was nothing wrong with not wanting to talk to her. I can't imagine what it was like for you that night, watching her die and not being able to stop it."
"Yes, you can," she whispered. She saw a flicker of something like regret cross his face, then he was pulling her in to hug her tight.
"There's a difference between Anita and Aedan. I wasn't there the night Anita died. There wasn't anything I could have done because of the distance. You were there the night Aedan gave herself to the demon. And he wounded her so badly that only medical professionals could help," he replied. "Watching a friend do that would make me mad, too. It might make me feel like there was nothing to say to them. You had every right to protect yourself like that. But that doesn't mean that someone kidnapped her because you were angry. Someone kidnapped her because they're a horrible, mean person. Not anything you did."
"But maybe if I'd been talking to her, Nathaniel, she'd have mentioned something to me. Maybe we could have prevented this." She knew it was an excuse, that she was looking for something to lessen the guilt she felt. And she knew that Nathaniel was right, that what had happened wasn't her fault. But knowing that didn't stop her from feeling that it was.
"If she hadn't mentioned anything out of the ordinary to Jean Claude or Edward, what makes you think she'd have mentioned it to you?" he asked her, tone filled with patience.
"I--" She trailed off. She honestly had no idea what made her think Aedan would have told her anything. Especially after she'd given the woman the idea that she didn't want to have anything to do with her anymore. Rhia frowned and glared balefully at the crumpled paper. "I'm supposed to be one of Cassandra's heirs. The last Oracle. I should be able to See where she is. I should be able to get something."
"Maybe you'd get something if you didn't try to force it," he reminded her. Then he gave her a look that held equal measures of pity and sadness. "Maybe, this time, you aren't meant to get anything. That's something you have to consider, Rhia."
"I refuse to accept that, Nathaniel. If I can't use this gift to save the people I care about, what good is it? I couldn't find Micah when he was taken. Now I can't find Aedan. Its a useless gift if it doesn't show me who's holding her and where."
Nathaniel gave her a look before reaching out to take her hands. "Rhia, you should know that this isn't a gift you can order to do what you want it to. It shows you what it feels you need to know. That's all. You can't force it to show you anything. You can't bend it to your will. You just have to let it come and trust that it will give you what you need to help. And if it doesn't... Then you have to trust it knows what its doing and let that be good enough."
"I can't let that be good enough, Nathaniel. Not if they kill her," she retorted.
Ignoring the look he was giving her, the one that held pity and sadness and a little bit of disbelief, Rhia reached out for the paper once more. The words Aedan had written just over a week ago were still vibrant and stark, neat slashes of black ink against bright white. Rhia stared at them, felt guilt rise up inside. Aedan had been willing to die to keep her safe. She just couldn't understand why the other woman would do that. Friendship shouldn't have been a strong enough motivation. And she felt like a horrible friend for ignoring Aedan the way she had.
She laid her fingers against the print, felt the tiny indentations where the tip of the pen had rolled against the paper. And felt nothing else. Frustration ate at her.
Maybe she was too tired to get a proper vision. It had been more than twelve hours since Edward had called them all together, had told them point blank that Aedan had been taken. Had accused them without saying a word of making it possible. Naturally she hadn't been able to sleep when she'd returned to her apartment. Explaining to Nathaniel just what Edward had wanted had been more difficult than she'd expected. Even more difficult had been the absolute silence of her gift.
She stared at the paper. Saw that night all over again. Imagined that whoever had taken Aedan was inflicting upon her the same kind of pain the demon had. Rhia didn't realize she'd closed her eyes, that she'd started crying, until a drop splashed against the back of her hand and startled her eyes open. The paper was crumpled up in her hand once again.
Her hands shook as she reached out and tried to smooth the paper down. It was a nervous gesture, something to do with her hands so she wouldn't have to think. Even if only for a second or two. Her actions were interrupted by Nathaniel, who set a plate and a glass before her. The plate had an assortment of fruit, as well as cubed meats and cheeses on it. The glass was filled with juice. "You need to eat, Rhia. I haven't seen you eat since last night. You can't seek visions on an empty stomach."
She stared at the plate before her and felt her tummy gurgle. She was too upset to eat. Turning to look at Nathaniel, she offered him a faint smile. "I don't think I can stomach anything right now. I'm way too worried to want to eat. But thank you."
"You need to try, Rhia. You can't run for very long on an empty stomach," he said, tone reproachful. He softened his mothering tone with a tender press of his lips to her temple. She was, briefly, enveloped in the fresh, clean scent of vanilla. It went a long way toward calming her down.
Dutifully, Rhia picked up a grape and popped it into her mouth. Nathaniel waited and watched as she chewed it up and swallowed it down. Doing so seemed to satisfy him because he nodded and wandered off, leaving her to her own thoughts. Rhia's eyes went back to the crumpled paper, her hand reaching almost absently for another grape. Maybe Nathaniel was right. Maybe she wasn't meant to See what was happening with Aedan. But that didn't mean she couldn't try to See something else...
Decision made, she reached out and took hold of the paper one more time. Made sure her fingers were settled on the ink. She had no trouble feeling the grooves made by the tip of Aedan's pen when she wrote it. Rhia put another bite into her mouth, this time a small cube of cheddar, and chewed thoughtfully as she stared at the paper. Please, Mother Goddess, if you're listening... Please help me See something.
Nothing happened, despite Rhia's earnest and heart-felt plea. She wanted to be disappointed. But there was no time for the feeling because the world simply slipped away and she was left swimming in a thick fog that felt oddly like memory stretching around her. But how could it be her memory? She was damn certain she'd never been part of this memory.
There was the feel of stone beneath her feet, cold and smooth and worn with the passage of many people. Instinct told her she was barefoot, though she couldn't figure out why. And she could hear someone talking, though the voice was muffled and distorted. Likely by the fog. It was a man's voice, and it droned on endlessly in a litany of words that she didn't recognize at first. But the more he went on, the more she picked up and understood.
He was praying. His words were soft murmurs of devotion and worship. To a God she didn't believe in.
A religious fanatic. She was caught up in the prayers of a religious fanatic. He wore clothes that were bland and plain, that didn't quite fit him well. His feet were bare, explaining why she felt the smooth stone beneath her own toes. He knelt before a thin cot, knees settled on a folded up square that she decided must be the blanket off the cot, his back to her. He had his hands pressed together, elbows resting on the edge of the bed, and his head was bowed ever so slightly. Blonde hair, hanging sort of longish and looking terribly unkempt, brushed his shoulders and shone dully in the dim light of the bulb.
A door opened, bringing her head around to her left. Someone entered, though their face was hidden by shadows and fog. The man stopped praying, but didn't bother to turn and look at the newcomer. She got the sense that there was something familiar between the two of them. She wasn't sure she could place what it might be. Silence held for a moment, then the man spoke again. "Well?"
"It is done," a woman's voice told him.
"You're sure?"
"Yes," the woman replied. Something about her voice felt familiar to Rhia, as if she'd heard it before. But it was distorted in the fog, thicker and deeper and accented. "The hunter is here, trying to find her."
"Did you see them take her?" the man asked.
"I did," the woman confirmed. "What do we do now?"
"We wait. Soon the spell will be broken. When it is, you will help me leave this place. And you'll have that which you desire most in the world," the man said.
The woman waited a little bit, almost as if she wanted to say something. But she remained silent, eventually turning and leaving the room. The door shut firmly behind her. And there was the sharp, thick sound of a lock turning into place. The man went back to his prayers, as if the woman had never interrupted.
Rhia found herself back in her own body so suddenly that she nearly fell from her chair. Nathaniel was there to take hold of her, to make sure she didn't hit the ground, and he gently pressed the glass of cold juice into her hands. "What did you See, Rhia?" he asked quietly.
"Conspirators," she whispered hoarsely, sipping at the juice to wet her throat. "A man and a woman. I think they were talking about Aedan. But none of it made sense."
"Was it anything solid that Edward or Jean Claude could use?" he questioned.
"I... I don't know." Rhia frowned and shook her head. "There were no names mentioned. Nothing that said it was specifically about Aedan. But I can't shake the feeling that it was. And that I was meant to See it. I think it just happened recently, too. But I don't know for certain."
"Then I think we need to head over to the Circus. I imagine both Jean Claude and Edward will want to hear this. We'll let them decide if its worth looking into or not," Nathaniel replied with a soft smile. Rhia nodded and rose from the chair, snagging a couple more bites off the plate, and let Nathaniel lead her toward the door.
Sweet Goddess, let this news be helpful.
~*~*~*~*~
"Conspirators?" Micah asked softly, his glance shifting from Jason to the bed. Minette was curled up under the covers. She'd given in to sleep, exhausted from trying to keep herself closed off from Aedan. She'd been mostly successful, but there had been occasions where she'd been unable to keep the barrier up between them and she'd suffered through some of what Aedan's captors were doing to the woman. He frowned and considered it. "What do Jean Claude and Edward think of that idea?"
Jason gave him a look. "You know how they both are. Neither one of them was really forth coming with opinions or anything. However, I don't know that Jean Claude is entirely sold, though he hasn't put the idea from him. Edward, on the other hand, is probably giving it consideration. He's said from the minute he got here that there was something off about the whole thing. Rhia's vision may just prove him right."
Micah stared at him for a minute. "What do you think?"
The question seemingly startled Jason. Micah figured it was mostly because people generally didn't ask him his opinions. He was more than content to let them think he was a dumb blonde intent on chasing women. Most people didn't know just how intelligent and thoughtful Jason could be. After a moment or two of silence, Jason frowned and shook his head. "I don't know. I haven't really given it much thought. I know Jean Claude wants to think this is to do with the people who want her dead, but I'm with Edward on it. It happened so suddenly. And really out of the blue. It doesn't really feel like something a person who wanted her dead would do. Why not just kill her and leave her there to be found? They'd already picked off her guards. It would have been easy to do the same to her."
Micah allowed his own frown to come. "Except they wouldn't just shoot her from a distance. They'd make it up close and personal, like they did with Anita. They'd make a show of it. Because it seems they want Jean Claude to suffer. I mean, that's what Anita's death felt like to me."
Jason nodded thoughtfully. "So you think that maybe Edward's theory is correct and this has nothing to do with the people who want Aedan dead?"
"Its starting to sound like it more and more," Micah replied.
A faint whisper of sound saw both men turning their heads toward the bed, putting an end to the speculative conversation. Minette was shifting under the covers, letting them know that whatever was happening to Aedan was leaking through the shields. Jason got up and headed for the bed. The wolf settled on the edge of the mattress and reached out a hand to lay against her shoulder. Minette didn't stop moving, nor did she stop whimpering. That told Micah that it was likely a bad session on the other end.
"Minette, shhhh. Its okay," Jason said, even though they both knew it was futile. She'd whimper and moan until Aedan was left unconscious or her captors broke off. One of the drawbacks of the two women being bound together by Jean Claude's marks. Then again, Micah couldn't imagine what this was doing to the vampire. He had no doubt that if Minette was having problems with it, so was Jean Claude.
The whimpers lasted a few more minutes, filling the silence of the room with their pained, mournful sound. Micah drifted toward the bed in the hopes that adding his touch to her skin would see Minette settle. It didn't. All it did was allow him to feel the fine tremors racing along her muscles. It took a while for her to settle. When she did, she was sweaty and limp. She lay there a moment or two, then opened her eyes and stared up at them blankly. This close, it was easy to see the ghost of the other woman's pain clouding her gaze. Minette blinked and tears rolled down her cheeks.
"Its okay, Minette. Its okay," he offered, despite the fact that it wasn't. And they knew it wasn't.
"They're hurting her, Micah," she whispered. He watched as she dragged herself into a sitting position. Her hands shook as she ran them through her hair, as she used them to wipe the tears off her face.
"I know," he replied. "I wish there was something I could do to make it stop."
"We need to find her," she told him.
"Edward is working on that," Jason assured her. Then he tugged her into his hold and hugged her tight. She wrapped her arms around him, allowed him to give her that comfort. Micah joined them and put his chest to her back. She was still shaking.
"He needs to work faster," Minette said, voice muffled and hoarse from being pressed against Jason's chest. "I don't know how much more of this she can take."
Jason glanced at Micah over her head, eyes seeking advice or words of wisdom. Micah could do and say nothing. He was fresh out of them. To be honest, he wished he was out looking for Aedan. When their positions had been reversed, she hadn't rested until she'd found him. It felt like a slap in her face that he wasn't doing everything he could to track down the people who took her and repay them in kind for what they'd done to her. Just as she had done for him.
"Aedan is one of the strongest people I know," Jason told her, taking a moment to press a kiss to the top of her head. "She knows we're looking for her. She'll do what she has to in order to hang on. She knows you want her to come home. She knows you're scared and you miss her. She knows you love her."
"How can she know that when the last time I spoke to her, I was horrible to her?" Minette asked, fresh tears in her voice.
Micah copied Jason's move and pressed a kiss to the back of Minette's head. "She knows because she loves you, too."
~*~*~*~*~
"Please stop torturing yourself, mon ange. She loves you," Asher said gently, staring at Janika's profile. She could feel his gaze locked on her because she refused to look at him. They were at her apartment, sitting side by side on her couch. For all the mental distance between them, it might as well have been a world away. Janika wanted to move to the other side of the couch, to put a literal distance between them. But doing so would hurt Asher and she'd already hurt someone she loved with her actions. She wasn't going to do the same to Asher if she could help it.
"You're so sure about that?" she asked, disbelief in her voice.
"Of course I am. Do you think she would have reacted so harshly to your words if she did not?" He reached out and curled his fingers around her chin, then gently turned her face toward him. She was sure her eyes were full of her doubt, and the fear that she couldn't make go away.
"This is Aedan we're talking about. She reacts badly to someone telling her she has to leave her gun behind," Janika reminded him. Her words brought a faint smile to his face, but it faded and he lifted his other hand, used both of them to frame her face between his palms. His touch was soothing and gentle, his skin warm against hers.
"Yes, Aedan is prickly. And stubborn. And easily angered. But she also loves deeply. And she will do anything she has to to keep her friends safe. And I assure you, she loves you. And she would not want you to sit here and lay any blame for what happened on your own head," he assured her.
"I'm not blaming myself," she denied. The smile he gave her told her he didn't believe her.
"Just as I am not blaming myself for not going into the diner sooner. Or arriving at the diner sooner. Or even asking her to meet me there. I should have gone to her office and simply talked with her there. She would want me blaming myself no more than she would want you to," he told her.
"This isn't your fault, Asher," she told him immediately. She wasn't sure why Asher had asked her to meet him at some diner in the middle of the night, but she knew it wasn't his fault that something had happened.
"Nor is it yours," he returned. Then he gave her a searching look. "Unless you are the one who arranged for her to be kidnapped out of that diner last night."
"Don't be an ass. Of course I didn't," she responded, a hint of laughter in her voice. She watched as he smiled at her. One of his hand stroked her hair away from her face.
"Then you have no reason to feel guilt."
"And neither do you," she returned.
"And yet, we both blame ourselves. Such is the nature of humanity when something horrible happens to people we care about," he said gently. She allowed him to wrap his arms around her and pull her close, allowed him to hug her to his chest. "We will find her, Janika. And we will bring her home. Jean Claude and Edward will not rest until they do so. And I have heard that Rhiannon has had some kind of vision that may be of use in discovering how the kidnapping was planned."
Janika frowned. He made it sound as if it someone they knew was responsible for what had taken place. "An inside job?"
"If Rhiannon's vision is to be believed, yes."
"What did she see?" she asked, interested despite herself.
"That, I do not know. I was not involved in the meeting she had with Jean Claude."
"Why not?" Janika frowned. Why would Jean Claude leave Asher out of such a meeting. He had feelings for Aedan, too.
"Because I was not at the Circus when Rhiannon arrived," he replied, giving her a smile. "I was on my way here to see you. To make you feel better and perhaps make you smile. I know that this is difficult for you. I did not want you to be alone."
Janika returned his smile. "I'm glad you're here," she admitted. If she was being honest, she'd been kind of going crazy trying to wrap her head around everything that had happened. Asher made her feel solid and steady. And she really needed that after the past week.
"There is no where else I would rather be, mon ange," he told her. Asher pressed a kiss to her lips, letting her know without words that he meant what he said, then leaned back and gave her a stare. "Tell me how things are going with your mother."
"They're wonderful!" she returned, not even having to think about it. She'd often wondered, over the years, what it would be like to reunite with her family. Her mother, especially. Part of her had worried, rightly so, that a reunion would be marred with anger and shouting and hurtful words. But that hadn't happened. None of her imaginings could ever compare with the real thing. The shine and wonder of their initial meeting at the restaurant hadn't dulled at all. In fact, it had strengthened since that night. "I can't ever repay you or thank you enough for giving me my mother back."
"Anything to put a smile on your beautiful face," he said warmly.
"I've been thinking a lot lately about what she told me at dinner that night. About being able to unbind my magic if that's what I wanted."
Asher gave her a look. "What have you been thinking?"
"That I want her to do it," she told him, hating that she sounded hesitant about it all. He'd told her mother that her decision wouldn't matter to him, but that didn't mean she wasn't uncertain about it all. Because if she had magic, it would change things between them. She was certain of that. "I want her to undo the binding. But I don't want it to cause problems between us or anything. I don't want to do it if you're going to have problems or be uncomfortable with it."
"Janika, have you not realized by now that I would never stand in the way of anything that would make you happy? All I wish is for you to be happy. If having your mother unbind your magic will please you, then it will please me. I love you for who you are. Not for any other reason. Your magic is as much a part of you as the color and length of your hair or the shape of your mouth or the soft sigh you give when I have very thoroughly kissed you." As if to punctuate his words, he leaned in and kissed her as thoroughly as he ever had. And she promptly sighed like the lovesick fool she was. It brought a smile to his face. "Yes. That one. If you have your mother unbind your magic, that will only be another part of your whole. And it will not change my feelings for you."
"You're sure?" she asked, making sure he had the opportunity to change his mind if that was what he wanted to do.
"I am certain, Janika. Magic or not, I will still love you the same as I do now. Nothing will change that," he vowed quietly. The look in his eyes was filled with promise and love and it sent shivers up her spine.
"I don't want to do something that will end up costing me your affections. It isn't worth it to have magic if I lose you," she told him.
"That is not likely to happen, my love, as we are tied to one another now," he said, voice low and soft and seductive. "And nothing short of death will change that."
She almost responded to the last of his statement, but then her mind registered everything he'd said and she halted. Blinked up at him in astonishment. "I'm sorry. Can you say that again?"
"Nothing short of death will change that," he repeated. She stared a moment, trying to decide if he really thought she'd wanted him to repeat the last thing he said to her or if he was merely pulling her leg. She finally decided he was having one over on her and she shot him a glare to let him know she didn't appreciate it.
"Not that, you butt. The other bit," she instructed, using a finger to motion back in an effort to get him to go further back in his statement.
"You mean the part where I called you my love?" he asked, one corner of his mouth quirking up knowingly.
"Yes. That part," she nodded.
He offered her a broad smile. "Do you think I lied to your mother when I told her that I love you more than life itself?"
"I... don't know, actually," she admitted. She hadn't really given it any thought. Not to mention, she'd still been too stunned by her mother being there in the flesh to really pay attention to what Asher had said.
"You are dearer to me than anything, Janika. More precious than life. I love you as I have loved no other. Nothing will change that," he told her gently. She could hear in his voice that he meant it. More than that, she could feel through their link that he was telling her the truth. She couldn't help the tears that welled up in her eyes. Rolled down her cheeks.
Asher reached out and stroked the droplets of moisture away with his thumbs, giving her a tender look. "There's no reason to cry, mon ange. I did not mean to make you sad."
"These are happy tears, you dork," she told him, laughter bubbling up when he gave her a look that said he was offended at being called a dork.
"Shall I show you a dork?" he asked. She heard the determination in his voice. Never got a chance to answer his question. Because he was dragging her into his lap so that he could press another kiss to her lips. Not the kind that left her sighing, but the kind that left her hungry and needy. She straddled his thighs, wrapped her arms around his neck. Snuggled closer. Felt the instant reaction his body had to being pressed so tightly against her own. Reveled in her ability to make him hot and hard for her.
His tongue delved into her mouth, probed deep. She curled her fingers in his hair, rubbed herself enticingly against his erection. Begged for more without saying a word. She was rewarded by Asher gripping her tight and rising to his feet. When he was standing, she wrapped her legs around his waist. His hands curled over her butt and then he was moving. He carried her toward the bedroom effortlessly, settled her down on the bed, and paid homage to her with his hands and his lips and his teeth and his tongue.
And later, much later, after he'd stripped her naked and paid homage again, he slid himself into her and made long, slow, sweet love to her. Janika fell asleep that night, fully sated, with Asher wrapped tightly around her.
~*~*~*~*~
Isis stood in the parking lot, staring at the bright light pouring from the diner's windows. There were maybe a handful of people inside the place, laughing and talking and staring at their phones while they scooped up food from their plates and generally passed the time. A single waitress moved about the place with easy authority, bringing plates and refreshing drinks and laughing along with her patrons. It was, all in all, a kind of cozy looking place. And it was very much out of the way, which explained why Asher had asked Aedan to meet him there.
Oddly, the corner where she knew Aedan's Jeep had been parked was empty. As was the space next to it, which was where the SUV belonging to her rodere bodyguards had been waiting. She wandered closer, letting her senses stretch and seek out anything out of the ordinary. It almost felt like there was a pall cast over that corner of the lot, a lingering sense of sadness and violence that people would feel subconsciously. That would encourage them to park elsewhere.
Something was off about this whole kidnapping thing. She'd listened to Edward as he'd told her and the others everything they knew. Which wasn't really that much. And it had felt off to her then. To be honest, she felt that Edward had found it off, too. But whatever he thought about it, he'd kept to himself. Isis had wanted to pay a visit to the diner last night, as soon as she'd found out, but it hadn't been possible. First, because the girls had been there for some time, asking questions. Second, because Damian had asked her not to go without him. He hadn't needed to give voice to his feelings for her to know and understand that he was worried about what might happen to her if she went alone.
Unfortunately, the passage of time had dimmed the scents that she needed. She could only catch the faintest whiff of Aedan where her Jeep had been parked. A good deal of blood and death where the SUV had been parked. Not much else. She couldn't even detect the smell of gun powder. She wasn't that surprised, though, because she knew that the actual shots had come from another lot entirely. There would have only been trace amounts to find around the SUV.
"You have not found anything, have you?" Damian asked her quietly. Isis turned to stare at him, then frowned and shook her head.
"No. Nothing that will help. I can barely smell Aedan here," she motioned to the space with one hand. "Most of what I'm getting is the rats and their death. Not much where Aedan is concerned."
"I get little here, also," he admitted. She watched as his head turned, gaze shifting to look off the lot in the direction from which they'd been told the shots had come. He stared a moment or two, then brought his head around and looked the other direction. "I do not think her captors would bring her all the way over here. The chance of being seen by someone would be too great. They would likely have attempted to park as closer to the building as possible."
Isis nodded. 'That makes sense. Easier to get her into a car and get away. Faster." She let her gaze skim over the lot, finally picking out a spot that wasn't really a parking space. It was almost too narrow for anything other than a compact car. And there was a big pot hole there. She pointed toward it. "There. Its empty tonight. It was probably empty last night. That hole looks nasty and would probably do some serious damage to a car's suspension."
Damian studied it a moment, then nodded his head. "I agree. It would be a good place to leave a vehicle running. A good place to park in order to make off with an unconscious victim." He started toward the empty spot. Isis fell into step with him and, together, they crossed toward the parking space.
"Do you think we'll find anything there?" she asked him.
"If we do, I do not know that it will be of any help. It will only confirm a theory," he replied.
"Maybe, but it would be another step toward finding her," she said softly.
The spot was right next to the diner, only a few steps from the door. It looked like few people ever parked in it because getting out would be tight. Both from the vehicle and from the space. It was conveniently set away from one of the two lights in the lot, leaving it mostly in shadows despite the lights from the interior of the diner shining through the windows. Isis took a deep breath, drawing lingering scents into her lungs. Something odd tickled her nose. "I smell... something like incense?" she said, not at all certain that that's what she smelled.
"It is incense," Damian confirmed. "It is a type that is used in church rituals."
Isis frowned. "Religious ceremonies? Who would come to this place after a religious ceremony? This is out of the way and not a very hot spot. No one would come here after just leaving a church. Not even on a Sunday morning."
"I am not sure. Perhaps the kidnappers are deeply religious?" he suggested.
"That doesn't make sense to me. Why would a deeply religious person kidnap someone?" she asked.
"Why would a deeply religious person invade another country and wage war against the people who live there?" he countered. Isis stared at him. Damian stared back.
"You're right, of course. Being religious doesn't exclude a person from doing bad things. They just feel they have a justification for doing bad things," she sighed. "But I don't know how that helps us. There are a lot of churches in the city. And I'm sure quite a few of them use incense. So that kind of puts us back at square one."
"I fear you are right," Damian agreed.
"Help you folks?" a voice asked from the side of the building. Isis and Damian looked up to find an aging man with dark skin leaning up against the wall of the diner. The cherry from his cigarette glowed brightly as he drew smoke into his lungs.
Isis stared at him a moment. He wore a plain t-shirt and a pair of old jeans under a white apron that was stained with grease and other things. She pegged him as the diner's cook. "You come out here every night?" she questioned.
"Every night on my break," he nodded.
"Were you here last night?" she asked, moving closer. The man stared at her for a few seconds before his gaze slid to Damian behind her.
"Why do you wanna know?"
"I'm looking into my friend's disappearance. She was here last night," Isis explained.
"The one that fed were here asking questions about?"
"Yes. That one. I just want to know if you were here last night. And, if you were, if you may have seen anything out of the ordinary."
The man took one last drag off his cigarette, then tossed it down and stepped on it to put it out. "Yeah. I was here last night. I was standing right here when some big guy comes out of the diner dragging a limp form with him."
"Did you see what he looked like?" she asked, doing her best to keep anything from her voice. There was no guarantee that he was telling the truth about any of it. She didn't want to let him know his words were getting her hopes up.
"Nope. Too dark. But the car he got into was in that empty spot. Which is why I noticed it. No one parks in that spot. Bad things happen to people who have parked in that spot," the man replied.
"Can you tell me what the car looks like?"
"It was a dark sedan. Four doors. Almost didn't fit in the spot. The man shoved the limp form into the back seat, then got in and started the engine, and pulled away. Headed off in that direction." The man pointed in the direction of the highway. That was interesting.
"Did you get a plate or anything?"
"Nope. Too dark," he repeated.
Isis frowned. It would have been such a big help if the cook had gotten the plate. She was pondering what to do next when Damian spoke. "What time was this? Do you remember?"
"Oh, yeah. Shortly before nine o'clock. I usually take my first smoke break at eight forty five and then go in at nine. I was just getting ready to go inside when the car pulled out of the lot." The man looked at his phone and frowned. "Speaking of which, I've got to get back to the grill. Did you folks need anything else?"
"No. Thank you. You've been really helpful," Isis told him. They watched him wander toward the back of the building, then disappear around the corner. When he was gone, she and Damian started back to her car. "So. Do we tell Edward?"
"Yes. Edward needs to know," Damian replied firmly. "He can get access to traffic cameras. Maybe that will give him something to work with."
"Yeah. But a dark sedan isn't much to go on. There have to be thousands of those in the city."
"How many of them were leaving this parking lot at nine last night?" Damian questioned lightly. Isis had to admit. He had a point there. It was doubtful that two dark sedans would have been leaving the lot at the same time. Damian opened her door for her, held it open so she could climb into the car. She smiled up at him when he shut it, then watched as he circled around the front to get in on the passenger side.
"So the plan is to go back to the Circus and tell Edward about the car. Then what?"
"I thought perhaps we could go to the movies," he suggested, holding up a hand to forestall any argument she might have made. "There is little else we can do until Edward or Jean Claude or someone locates Aedan. And until they do, I see no reason we have to sit in the corner and hide away. I am a centuries old Viking warrior. You are Regina of the pride. I believe we can handle just about anyone who attempts to do us harm."
"It doesn't feel right going out to the movies when I know that Aedan is suffering somewhere," Isis admitted to him.
"She would not want you to sit around and worry for her," he countered.
Isis considered it as she cranked the engine over. When it had idled down, she put the car in gear and pulled from the parking space. To be honest, the idea of a movie held some appeal. Especially if she got to watch one without the pride around to offer commentary on it. She loved movie nights with the pride, but there was only so much criticism and complaining she could take. And she had no doubt that Damian was right. Aedan wouldn't want her moping around the Circus, worrying over something she could do nothing about.
"You have a movie in mind?" she asked him, turning out onto the road.
"There is a new fantasy film playing. I thought perhaps you might like to go get lost in a fantasy world for a short while," he told her.
"Fantasy is good. Can we get popcorn?"
"Of course," he smiled.
"Goobers or Milk Duds? A giant sized Coke? Maybe a pretzel with cheese dip. And a pickle. A pickle sounds good."
"Whatever you like, Isis," Damian said around his chuckles. She flashed him a smile and signaled to turn onto the service road.
"Awesome!" she replied. Yeah. A movie sounded really good.
~*~*~*~*~
The thumping of the bass through the walls should have been distracting. It wasn't. At least, not in the way he'd have liked it to be. Instead, it annoyed him. Made him wish that the sun was up and he could sleep. Push all the little annoyances away from him for a short while. But it wasn't even past midnight yet and already he'd suffered a handful of bouts where Aedan's shields had slipped enough to allow him a brief glimpse into what was going on. To say he was displeased was an understatement.
Jean Claude put his head in his hands and tried to find his center of calm. He'd been alive for far too long for his control to be so poor. But he'd never been forced to live through the torture someone close to him was enduring. And if Aedan could endure it, he would do no less than the same. How he wanted to shut it all out.
Her torture was too close to the very things he'd been forced to live through so many years ago. If someone had once suggested to him that a life lived so long would still be subject to the lingering miseries brought about by abuse, he might have laughed in their face. But wasn't Asher living proof that one never let go of the horrors of their past lives? He disliked that he was falling victim to the suffering of a century past. And he disliked that Aedan would now have such memories to plague her for years to come.
Would that he could do something to end her torture, he'd have done it already. Instead, he was forced to sit back and suffer through the faint brushes of what she had to feel in full. It made functioning difficult. And he'd already started dreading the next bout, started dreading the horrible fear of the next round of abuse that lived within him.
He barely sensed the presence outside his door before the knock sounded on the wooden panel. He'd been so lost in thoughts and memories and fear, he'd almost missed an arriving guest. Taking a moment to get himself under control, he straightened in his chair and put on his blank face. "Enter," he called.
The door opened and one of the lycanthropes who worked at the club stepped into his office. "You have a visitor," the wolf said before stepping back out. The large form of Zerbrowski filled the frame, then stepped into the office. Jean Claude managed a faint smile, then nodded at the wolf. The door closed and the two men were alone.
"Good evening, Detective. Please," he said, motioning to the chairs before his desk. "Have a seat. What brings you to Guilty Pleasures once again?"
"I came to ask after Aedan. I've tried calling her phone a couple times today and its gone to voice mail. I hope she's okay," the man said as he settled into a chair. He looked rumpled, much the same as he had the last time Jean Claude had seen him. There was a dark stain on his blue tie that looked suspiciously like barbeque sauce. The shirt beneath was pale yellow and wrinkled. His suit coat was brown and his pants were a shade lighter than his tie. Jean Claude considered, for just a moment, asking him if he dressed that way intentionally to make people underestimate him or if his fashion sense was simply that atrocious. But he kept the question to himself and concentrated instead on the reason for the man's visit.
"I have instituted a telephone ban for the foreseeable future. Aedan has been pushing herself far too hard of late. I want her to fully rest up and she cannot do that if her phone rings. She is on leave from Animators, Inc. for a few weeks and I have instructed her to do nothing but laze about and recover."
Zerbrowski gave him a look that fully suggested Jean Claude was being an authoritarian asshat and could shove his instructions where the sun didn't shine. "And she's okay with that?" he asked instead.
"She is, Detective. Because if she does not rest, she will be of no use to you or your boss or anyone else. Her unique talents require an enormous amount of energy. Tell me, Detective," he paused, leveling a look on the other man. "Do you think Aedan has been able to fully rest and relax over the past few months? Or do you perhaps believe she has been pushing herself far too hard in her duties?"
Zerbrowski stared at him a moment, then sighed. It made it sound as if the man was reluctantly conceding defeat. "She's been pushing herself from day one."
"Yes. She has. And perhaps she can hide it from you for a time. But she cannot hide it from me. She and I are bound together and I can feel it when her exhaustion reaches dangerous levels." Jean Claude didn't bother to tell him that such a thing only happened if Aedan allowed him to feel it.
"But to cut her off from her cell phone?" the man asked. His tone said he still hadn't bought Jean Claude's story. He supposed that Detective Zerbrowski wouldn't be a very good detective if his instincts didn't tell him when something sounded or felt off. Be that as it may, Jean Claude was not about to tell the man that they were presently scrambling in an effort to find out who had kidnapped Aedan. Edward had agreed with Jean Claude's decision not to involve the local police. Or any police, really. If it came to light later and anyone asked, they would be able to say that Edward, in his guise as Federal Marshal Ted Forrester, had been on the case from the very beginning. Which wasn't even a little bit of a lie.
Jean Claude gave a negligent shrug that meant nothing and everything all at once. "She is young, Detective. You know how young people are addicted to their cell phones. No doubt, if I hadn't enacted the ban, she would be playing some odd little game on it even as we speak. That is not the kind of rest she needs."
Zerbrowski stared a moment, then huffed out a humorless laugh. "You know, if I didn't know better, I'd swear you were being a dictator and keeping Aedan from us. Because my instincts are screaming that you're lying to my face. Granted, if you are, you're doing a damn good job because nothing shows. But you have to know that lying to the police makes you look very bad and guilty."
"What would I be guilty of, Detective?" Jean Claude asked and spread his hands in an expansive gesture that could be read anyway the man chose. "Protecting myself and my people? Aedan's good health, or bad, affects me and my people. It is in everyone's best interest if she is well rested."
"Not to sound like I'm being an offensive prick, because that isn't what I'm doing, but you're a vampire. Vampires aren't really known for being open and honest and forthcoming," Zerbrowski pointed out.
"No offense taken, Detective. I am well aware of the reputation my kind have. And much of it is well earned. But please understand that anything that befalls Aedan will befall me. The marks that bind us together guarantee it."
"Don't you think it was a little soon to mark her after Anita?" The man's tone made him sound like an overly concerned father. It actually warmed his heart to know that someone cared enough about Aedan to want to protect her.
"That choice was not made by either myself or Aedan. It was made for us," Jean Claude replied.
"Aedan said something about Anita dumping her crap on her shoulders. That was one of those things?" Zerbrowski asked, and he sounded skeptical. As many people did. There were times when Jean Claude still had difficulty accepting it.
"That was one of those things. When she was dying, she passed her powers and a great many other things on to Aedan. One of those things happened the be the marks I gave to Anita some time ago. She effectively gave Aedan to me. If you wish to take that up with anyone, you should take it up with Anita."
"If I could..." Zerbrowski said, trailing off before he finished his statement. "I still feel like you're keeping something from me. And I don't like that. I don't like that someone who claims to have Aedan's best interests at heart would hide things from me. It makes me think you are capable of doing her harm."
Jean Claude smiled and settled back against his chair, staring at the man intently. He made note that Zerbrowski didn't look at his face, instead focused on his shoulder. It looked as if he was taking every precaution. Aedan could do worse than have someone like him looking out for her. "I find it admirable that you wish to protect her, Detective. But bringing harm to Aedan would only bring harm to myself. I am not inclined to do such a thing. I am very pragmatic, after all." He paused and gave the man a good look. "She could find no better a friend. She could find no better father."
The compliment must have taken the other man by surprise, because he sat up in his chair and blinked in confusion. It was likely he hadn't been expecting it. It was likely the man had been expecting a fight of some sort. "Thank you."
"Believe me when I say, Detective, that I would tell you if anything was amiss. Aedan needs someone like you in her life. I get the impression, from what little she's told me, that her life before coming here is one she would rather forget. I hope to one day find out why. But for now, I am pleased to know that someone cares enough about her to look out for her best interests."
"Someone needs to do it. Because she won't," the man replied.
"In that assessment, you are very correct," Jean Claude returned with a faint smile.
Zerbrowski sighed and rose from his seat. He didn't sound happy, and he looked like he really didn't want to leave. "Since I've got your word that Aedan is okay, I guess I'll take my leave," he said. Then he leveled a look on Jean Claude that promised all kinds of pain. "But if I find out you're lying to me, if I find out you're hiding things and Aedan is hurt, I will come back and we'll talk about it. And I might just have to bring a pair of silver cuffs with me when I do."
"Threats, Detective? And here I thought we were becoming fast friends," Jean Claude replied with a touch of a grin on his lips. The man looked at him a moment, then shook his head. "I promise you, Detective, that Aedan is well and you have no reason to worry."
The man grunted in response before making his way to the door. He let himself out without another word or a backward glance. Jean Claude waited a few minutes before allowing himself to slump back in his chair. He didn't like that the good detective was suspicious. But it wasn't as if he could tell him that Aedan had been kidnapped. The man wouldn't have taken it well. He would have demanded to know why he hadn't been told. What they were doing to find Aedan. He would have asked questions that Jean Claude wouldn't have been able to answer.
Frowning, he tried to put the visit behind him. He would have to have Aedan call him when she was returned to them, and rested up from all the torture. However long that would take. She'd already endured two days of it. How many more before they could bring her home? What kinds of tortures would her captors subject her to? How would he explain it if something happened and she didn't come back?
He didn't like the fact that he didn't have answers to those questions. Nor did he like that there were a million more plaguing him. He wished he could find a way to make the questions stop. To bring Aedan home before the damage was beyond repair.
He wished he could bring her back so he could hold her in his arms and tell her that he'd missed her. That he'd been afraid for her. That he cared for her. Deeply.
When would the madness subside? When would they be able to live their lives and not worry about someone else for a change?
~*~*~*~*~
Edward stared at the cup of coffee in his hands, trying desperately to make sense of all the little tidbits running around in circles in his head. Despite having been gathering information for four solid days, he still hadn't been able to make much sense of it. At least, not in a way that got him answers. It was making him crazy and the urge to simply hurt something grew exponentially as the days passed.
First, there was Rhia's vision. He'd never really been one to believe in magic, even though Anita had used it. Even thought Aedan currently used it. Even though he'd been around enough vampires and shifters to know that it really was something that existed. Those were all tangible things, things he could touch to prove they were real. But Rhia's vision was something a little less solid. Something a little more impossible to believe.
Of course she and Nathaniel had come to him immediately after she'd had it so they could share it with him. If what she'd seen was to be believed, whoever was responsible for Aedan's disappearance had had inside information about where she was going to be that night. That pointed to someone who lived under the Circus or spent a good deal of time there. An inside job felt like it fit better than the kidnapping being random did. Or being tied to the threats made against Aedan's life did. The problem was her vision hadn't been able to give her a clear picture of who it was he should be looking at.
So, while the idea that someone who knew Aedan fairly intimately was responsible for her kidnapping in one way or another was feasible, finding out who that person might be was proving difficult because who was going to admit such a thing to his face? Everyone under the Circus knew what would happen if he found out one of them had had a part in Aedan's disappearance. That made investigating all the more difficult. If he could just figure out what her vision had meant, that might make it easier for him to figure out who under the Circus would risk his and Jean Claude's ire by doing such a thing.
He might have been willing to write the whole idea off, if not for the fact that Asher had told him that he'd been here under the Circus when he'd made the arrangements with Aedan. And he'd been alone in his room at the time. Which only served to strengthen the idea that the kidnapping was an inside job. It meant someone had overheard Asher's end of the conversation. Given how thick the walls and the doors were, only someone with enhanced hearing would have been able to overhear that conversation. That kind of effectively cut humans out of the equation. But there were so many vampires and lycanthropes under the Circus at any given time that the suspect pool really hadn't been narrowed by much.
And if Asher's story about being here when he'd made plans wasn't enough, Isis had apparently done her own investigating. And she'd found something worth considering. The cook at the diner had seen someone get into a car with a limp form shortly before Asher had arrived at the diner that night. Which might not have been worth noting, save for the fact that he'd made a point of saying the person had parked their car right next to the diner. In a spot that was really too small for a car. That suggested someone looking for a fast get away. Edward was ashamed to admit that he'd missed it. He should have talked to the cook. He hadn't.
The information Isis had brought to him was more than enough to have him asking an acquaintance to grab a look at the street cam footage that had been shot that night. The file he'd been sent had been a good chunk of footage of a dark sedan, either a deep blue or black, driving away from the diner and hopping on to the highway. The cameras had followed the car for a few miles, but had eventually lost it on some side streets. He was pretty sure that the car in the footage had been the one used to transport Aedan from the diner. But he had no confirmation as to that fact. And he had no clue where it had gone once it had gotten off the highway.
Which left him solidly back at square one.
Heaving a sigh, he got up and dumped his coffee out. It had long ago gone cold and he just wasn't in the mood for it. He was in the mood to hurt someone. To make something bleed and beg for mercy. Wouldn't it be lovely if he could find the inside party and take that mood out on them? Maybe a walk would help? The least it could do was clear the clutter from his mind and help him think things over clearly again.
There was a muted sense of sorrow clinging to the lair where Jean Claude made his home. As if the rock itself was saddened by Aedan's disappearance. Or maybe he was just too goddamn close to the case and his perspective was jaded. He had his own reasons for finding Aedan safe and as unharmed as possible, not the least of which was he considered her a friend. He didn't have many of those. He needed to keep the ones he had. Close or not, he had to find her and bring her home.
He let his feet lead him, let them take him in whichever direction they liked. His wandering saw him taking a lap around the gym, taking note of all the equipment Jean Claude had had installed after he'd taken over as Master of the City. He knew that Aedan sometimes trained on it, but not as often as she should. He knew that she didn't think it would help her defeat an enemy. Maybe she was right. But defeating an enemy wasn't the only goal she should try to achieve. Staying alive was ultimately the goal. Training would help keep her alive. Discipline would help keep her alive. And she needed both.
When he looked up, he found he'd left the gym and had wandered deeper into Jean Claude's underground lair. It wasn't a place he'd been before. But a quick glance behind a couple of the closed doors, none of which were locked, showed him empty stone rooms that came with their own sets of manacles and chains. One room had a handful of coffins in it, gleaming chains hanging off one of the walls. It didn't take much thought on his behalf to figure out that he was looking at cells. Places to hold prisoners and bad little vampires who made their master mad.
Edward paused and frowned. What was it Rhia had said about her vision? One of the people in it had been in a stone room. Like a cell. He stopped trying doors and simply moved from one to the next, listening through the door for anything that might be living on the other side. He'd almost completely exhausted his supply of doors when he finally hit pay dirt. He could hear a voice through the heavy wooden panel, very faintly. And it seemed to be... praying. Like a religious fanatic.
He was about to whip out his phone when some sixth sense saw him ducking into one of the empty cells. He almost completely closed the door, left it cracked the tiniest bit, and watched as a woman practically glided past the cell and went immediately to the door behind which he'd heard the praying. She unlocked the door, taking a moment to cast her gaze around as if making sure no one was spying on her. Then she ducked inside of the room and eased the door closed behind her.
Edward crept from out into the hallway and over to the door the woman had just gone through. He could hear the two of them through the door, the man's voice low and calm and steady while her voice was loud and anxious and filled with anger. Much of the conversation didn't make sense to him. Something about whores and spells. But the line that did catch his attention was spoken loud and clear. In a voice that was angry and hysterical, he heard the woman say: "You told me that if we got rid of her, he would love me. We got rid of her. And still he pines away for that insignificant little whore! You lied to me!"
Well. It looked like he'd found his inside man. Slowly, on silent feet, Edward crept back to the room he'd hidden in and slipped through the door. He pushed the wooden panel almost all the way shut and then pulled his phone from his pocket. After selecting a recipient, he sent a quick text, then watched the hall and waited for a response. It came before the woman left the cell and he wasn't surprised by the response he got.
He waited until the woman had left the cell and gone past his hiding place before he left it and headed across the hall to the door she'd just come out of. The key for the lock was kept on the wall next to the door, so it took him no time at all to unlock the door and step inside.
The man kneeling beside the cot didn't look up. Nor did he speak. He remained in his pious pose, lips moving as he continued to pray silently. It was only a few moments later that the door opened again. Not only did the woman enter the cell, but Jean Claude came in behind her.
"Jean Claude? What is the meaning of this?" she asked, gaze sliding around the cell as if she hadn't just seen it moments ago. Her eyes landed on him and Edward offered her the smile that made vampires crap themselves in fear. "Who are these people?"
"Funny you should ask such a question when I know you are very well acquainted with our guest," Jean Claude said, allowing the coldness to fill his voice. One hand motioned toward the prisoner, who had gained his feet and was watching them with a wary gaze. Then Jean Claude's hand swung his way. "And this, Gretel, is Edward. Perhaps you have heard of him before. His other name is Death."
Her eyes went wide at that, and she immediately turned them Jean Claude's way. "I do not understand. What--"
"Silence!' Jean Claude ordered, putting power into his voice. It made the woman cringe back in honest fear. "I will tolerate none of your lies. You have, by your own words, implicated yourself in Aedan's kidnapping. I will not let it stand. You will tell me where she is or I will hand you over to Death and he will force you to tell him. And I can promise you will not like his methods."
"That goes for you, too," Edward told the other man in the room. He stared at the three of them a moment, then offered a twisted smile.
"I am chosen. I am righteous. I am the Hand of God. There is nothing you can do to me. God will protect me. He will save me from your devious, demented plots. There is no place in Heaven for the wicked and the sinners. Your attempts to foul my belief and turn me from His path will be in vain. And the whore will die before you can find her."
"You know, I really am not happy that you called my friend a whore. I guess we'll have to do this the hard way. Unless you want to give it up, Gretchen," Edward turned toward her.
"You expect me to tell you anything? Pitiful mortal?" she spat at him, obviously putting up a front. She knew who he was, even if only by the stories whispered from one ear to the next in the dead of night.
"No. I don't expect you to do anything but be difficult. So I guess its a good thing I know so, so many ways to make people talk," Edward said, face utterly calm and blank. He turned to look at Jean Claude. I'm going to need some place to work. Some place private. Maybe an old, unused bathroom. Someplace with a hose and a drain will do, if you don't have a bathroom. Any room will work, so long as you don't care about how messy it'll get."
"I know just the place," Jean Claude told him. The door opened just then and Meng Die entered the room. "Chain her. Be sure she cannot escape her bonds. Then bring her."
Gretchen looked from Jean Claude to Meng Die, then back again. She might have said something but the smaller vampire took hold of her arms and shoved her toward the door. Her screams of rage echoed back up the hall.
They were like music to Edward's ears.
Tags:
- author: ladydeathfaerie,
- character: asher,
- character: damian,
- character: edward,
- character: isis moonrip,
- character: janika odon,
- character: jason schuyler,
- character: jean claude,
- character: micah callahan,
- character: minette poulson,
- character: nathaniel graison,
- character: rhiannon fitzpatrick,
- character: zerbrowski,
- universe: anita blake
(no subject)
Date: 2018-08-02 04:09 am (UTC)Loved the gals coming to terms with their own feelings about Aedan's kidnapping and how they'd treated her before it. The visions and whatnot reinforcing their already substantial guilt when the feel/see what Aedan is going through....gets ya right here! *points at her heart*
Oh man, that line "Shall I show you a dork?" kills me. :-)
And this scene with JC and Edward and all...oh man. Gretchen, thou art in a shitload of trouble. :-)
Also loved the scene with JC and Zerbrowski. I don't recall seeing those two interact very often in the books that I've read so far (please correct me though ;-) ), but I really enjoyed their interaction the way you wrote it. :-)
Yup. I kinda liked this chapter too. :-) Best bday gift ever!!! ;-) xxoo
(no subject)
Date: 2018-08-02 06:25 pm (UTC)look. i fully get that the girls are all entitled to be mad at Aedan for what she did. and i do not in any way want to take away from that anger. but its so easy for anger to turn to something just as toxic and unhealthy as guilt when the situation arises. and it has arisen. and the girls are being very, very human here. "Well, maybe if I was nicer to her, this wouldn't have happened." except, rationally, we all know it doesn't work that way. and trust me, they will all sit down and have a serious discussion about it. a very serious one. that's one of the remaining plot points i have on my list. Aedan needs to tell them what she's been thinking and doing. and they need to reinforce that she cannot simply run off and do as she pleases. they're a family. they all deserve more courtesy than that.
i absolutely, one hundred and fifty gajillion percent love "Shall I show you a dork?" and the fact that its Asher... that just kills me.
yes. Gretchen is in a world of hurt now. and i honestly cannot imagine what kind of force Edward and Jean Claude could be if they paired up to do some damage. seriously. it would honestly be fucking terrifying.
Jean Claude and Zerbrowski have never really shared much screen time together (not in what i've read) but he strikes me as being such a Dad type character. i absolutely have him filling that role for Aedan here because... someone has to. and i just wanted to put some lighter touches in the chapter to keep it from being a real drag. this story is so emotionally intense that there need to be breathers every now and again.
glad you enjoyed it, bb. thanks for reading and commenting. *smoochies*
(no subject)
Date: 2018-09-17 07:18 pm (UTC)But FOUR days for all the pieces to come together? Four fucking days?! I don't even know how Aedan can hold out that long.
Zebrowski is gonna be pissed when he finds out that she was kidnapped. It's not even a question of if. He's too good of a detective not to. Flattery or no, there's gonna be words had between those two.
Can't JC just force her to talk? Like metaphysically? I mean, he is her master. Even if she's stubborn, there are ways. I'm honestly a little surprised that Death didn't just kill the zealot outright. Just because. But I suppose they need info first. I hope he makes it painful.
Well done, hon. *smoochies*
(no subject)
Date: 2018-09-17 10:43 pm (UTC)Aedan's stubbornness is stubborn. and there is possibly an explanation coming up later that will help it make sense. maybe.
i'm sure Zerbrowski will figure it out. i hadn't planned on writing anything like that, but now you've put a small bug in my ear and so i'm considering... we'll see what happens. there's a little something there.
you know, i never even considered having Jean Claude make Gretchen talk. yeah, he's her master. he made her a vampire. but... its more fun letting Edward play than just using his power to do it. and maybe he looked at Edward torturing it out of her as a lesson she'd never forget. also, Edward has his reasons.
glad you liked it, honey. thanks for reading and commenting. .:smoochies:.
(no subject)
Date: 2018-09-18 01:40 pm (UTC)Did I give you a plot bunny egg? Really? *grins*
(no subject)
Date: 2018-09-18 10:08 pm (UTC)yes. you gave me a plot bunny egg. my brain has been trying to crack it so that we can make it work with the rest of the fic.