marysuevirus | The Mary Sue Virus: Beyond Death (Reply)

Title: The Mary Sue Virus: Beyond Death
Chapter Seventy: Dead and Broken
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

Janika was by herself, surrounded by an assortment of police files sent to her by her superiors involving quite a few missing women, when Edward came to her room. The sun had just barely crested the horizon. She knew that because she'd felt it, hadn't even needed Asher's departure to tell her that the sun was slowly pushing away the last of the night. Being tied to him as his human servant came with some added bonuses. Sensing the rising and setting of both the sun and the moon was one of them.

She'd found it didn't matter if she was at home in her apartment or here under the Circus. She felt day becoming night and night becoming day just as easily at one place as at the other. For the week she'd stayed in her apartment, she'd known the very moment the sun set and Asher rose. And she'd known the very moment the sun rose and Asher went to sleep. She'd still be at her apartment now if not for Aedan's kidnapping. After she'd been discovered missing, Jean Claude had more or less ordered that the more vulnerable members of his kiss make their home under the Circus until she was found and the kidnappers dealt with. Janika had balked at the idea, but she understood why the master vampire had issued such orders.

Ultimately, staying in Jean Claude's lair really wasn't much of a hardship. There was always someone around to keep an eye on things. And it allowed Janika to be closer to Asher. It made it possible for her to hear all the latest as soon as someone knew it. And it made it possible for Edward to seek her out only moments after the sun had risen and the entire undead population of the Circus had sought their day's rest.

The blonde was splattered in some poor soul's blood, obviously fresh from his torture session. He still wore the determined look upon his face that had settled there when he'd been told Aedan had been taken. No doubt whoever it was he'd discovered to have had a hand in Aedan's disappearance had been treated to a night with Death. Of course that news had spread like wildfire as soon as it had come to light. Janika was not shocked that Edward had started using his unique interrogation techniques right away, only that he'd do it at the Circus and not somewhere where he wouldn't be interrupted. Where he wouldn't have any potential witnesses.

The knock on the door had been as brisk and to the point as the man who'd delivered it. When the door swung open on his face, Janika could only stare for several long seconds. "Edward? What is it?" The sight of blood on his clothes and hands and face never even fazed her.

"I'm going on a rescue mission and I need back up. I want you to come with me." It wasn't quite an actual request, but it wasn't exactly an order, either. But she knew what he was asking her to do. Obviously, he'd gotten the information he'd needed from his captive or captives and he planned to act on it immediately. She thought that perhaps he should rest, that he should get some sleep before heading out to save Aedan from whatever horrible fate she'd been delivered in to. He looked like he desperately needed it. She wasn't going to suggest such a thing to him, though. She knew that he wouldn't listen to her, that he'd go with or without her.

Janika stared up at him for all of a heartbeat before she found herself nodding her answer to him. She would go with him to rescue Aedan. She'd do whatever he asked of her in order to get her friend back. She knew it wouldn't be a pleasant situation, that people would die before they were done. But that didn't matter to her. She knew that it should have, that she should want to enforce the law. She didn't want to. She wanted Aedan back, safe and sound. She wanted those responsible for taking her, responsible for her pain, to suffer for what they'd done to her.

They all knew that she was being tortured. Jean Claude might have been able to hide it from everyone, but Minette hadn't. She'd cried with the pain, begged for it to be over. Nothing anyone had done had soothed her. Janika hadn't seen the woman in a couple of days, but the haggard looks upon Jason and Micah's faces had said it all. And it must have gotten worse. Just last night, she'd seen such a look of desolation on Jean Claude's face. As if he was afraid...

"You know that there is no law involved in what's going to happen here, don't you?" Edward asked the question softly. His voice effectively cut off the dark thoughts she'd been thinking and brought her back to the here and now.

"You're Death. Law doesn't apply when Death is hunting his victims." The look she gave him let him know that there was nothing she wouldn't do to get her friend back. To prove that she stilled loved Aedan, despite the things that had gone between them. Her response and the expression on her face saw him giving her a smile. A grim, frightening, almost evil smile that held nothing of happiness and joy in it. It was the cold mask of pleasure that Death wore when his prey was in his sights. "Give me a few minutes to change and gather up my gun."

He nodded. "I'll be waiting. And I'll have a new toy or two for you." With that, he turned and walked away from her. Janika shut the door in order to get herself ready.

Five minutes had passed when Janika, freshly dressed in all black and her hair pulled into a pony tail, joined Edward in the living area. He was by himself, something that surprised her. She'd expected him to gather up a few of the lycanthropes to go with them. Extra muscle. Just in case. But he was alone, sitting on one of Jean Claude's white couches, the darkness of his clothes a foul stain against the pristine material. Laid out on the table before him were more than a dozen weapons. Janika wondered if the master vampire knew that Death had been packing that much fire power. Then she wondered if the vampire even cared. Edward picked up a gun and offered it to her without saying a word.

Janika took the gun just as silently. It was heavier than she'd expected, sending her hand dipping down before she pulled it back up. The gun was big, too. Bigger than her .22. Most likely a nine millimeter. She knew that it would pack a punch. It was on the tip of her tongue to say no thanks and hand it back to him, but she didn't. He obviously thought that she could handle it. And, because of Asher's marks, she could. Once upon a time, though, it had been a different story.

Without looking at him, she checked the safety, then dropped the magazine out and took a look. It was fully loaded with hollow point rounds. She estimated it at fifteen cartridges. Between that and her .22, she felt she'd be more than capable of handling anything that came her way. Add to that the weapons Edward was carrying in and she was sure they were ready to take on a small army.

"I expect you to follow my orders to the letter. This is Aedan's life we're talking about. I need to be sure you'll do what I say. If you can't handle that, tell me now and I'll find someone else." Edward watched her, his eyes positively empty. She knew it for the opportunity to prove to him that her anger wasn't going to get in his way. Janika shook her head.

"I want Aedan back. She's my friend. No matter the issues between us, she's still my friend. And I want her home. Whatever it takes," she promised, voice soft in the silence of the large room. Hard with her determination and her intention. Edward stared for all of a second, decided she meant what she said, and nodded his head. He took a few moments to check several weapons, then he began stashing them on his person. When he'd stocked up on what he planned on taking, he loaded everything else into a duffle bag that had been resting on the floor by his feet. He stood up then and gave her a look before turning to head toward the door and the stairs beyond. Janika followed after him in silence.

The echo of their footsteps on the stone stairs trailed after them as they climbed from the subterranean levels to the main floor. There was no guard on duty at the door. Janika couldn't decide if that was an accident or if it had been planned. Considering this was Edward, planned seemed more likely. And it made sense. No one to witness their leaving. No one to lie if someone asked questions. He motioned to his car when they stepped out of the building, then crossed the lot on silent feet, trusting that she would follow. He was already loading his duffel bag into the trunk when she opened the passenger door and climbed in.

They rode together in Edward's car, in near silence, toward some unspoken destination. There was no music playing on the radio, just the sound of Edward's voice as he went over his plan dispassionately. It could have been that he was simply reciting a recipe to her, his voice was so empty. She didn't ask how he'd gotten his information. The blood he'd been wearing spoke volumes and, normally, she wouldn't have stomached torture. But it was Aedan and that made it more than a little personal. She could put aside a few of her personal beliefs because of that. She didn't question him about what he thought she'd be capable of doing. There was only one question she had to ask him. "Why me, Edward? Why take me and not someone else?"

"Because you're human, Janika. And you've got more experience with a weapon than any one of them. And because I know that you won't get in my way once we get there." He told her his reasons without being asked twice and, despite the casual way he spoke, she saw tension in his hands and across his shoulders. It was apparently personal for him, too. "Minette might have strength, but she'd react with her animal side. And her emotions. Not her rational human side. The same goes for Isis. And Rhiannon doesn't strike me as the type to shoot first and forget the questions."

The reasoning was good enough for her, even if she wasn't sure if she should be flattered by it. She lapsed back into silence while he once more took up the discussion of how they would rescue Aedan. He'd apparently extracted a lot of information. Janika sat in the car and watched the scenery roll by and took in every word he said. And she silently hoped that they weren't too late.

~*~*~*~*~

It seemed like Minette had barely gone to sleep when she was awake again, trying so very hard to stifle her moans and sobs in her pillow. The unfortunate part of living with a group of lycanthropes was that they were still going to hear any sound you made, even if you managed to muffle it with something. Jason woke with the first sob and rolled toward her, tugging her gently into his arms. He didn't need to ask what was happening. He could tell by the fine tremors under her skin. By the tears on her cheeks. By the whimpers she couldn't stop.

Micah pressed up against her back only moments later, his mouth next to her ear in order to whisper soft words into it. In the hopes that she'd hear them and relax. That she'd let it all go. They both knew the attempt was in vain, just as all the others had been in vain. Nothing they did could seem to cut off that one last little bit of her connection to Aedan. Jason had to wonder if Minette was really trying, or if she was allowing this bit of the other woman's pain to leak through as a sort of punishment for how she'd treated her friend. It sounded like such an odd thing to do, but grief made people do weird things.

A glance at the clock beside the bed told Jason it was barely past sun up. It seemed like there was some kind of pattern to what the kidnappers did, and when, because Minette's episodes were almost like clockwork. What was surprising was that it didn't last much longer than ten minutes. Because Minette just suddenly sagged into Jason's hold and stayed there, gasping gently for breath while she waited for the shaking to subside. When she finally looked up at him, he could see real fear in her eyes.

"Minette?" he asked softly.

"I don't know if they're getting worse and inflicting more pain or if she's simply reached the breaking point. Because its already done. She barely lasted for more than five minutes this time," Minette told him. Both he and Micah could hear the fear she felt. It made her voice and her words thick. They both hugged her tight.

"We'll find her, Minette," Micah promised. "Word is that Edward got a lead last night."

"Yeah. You know he isn't going to rest until he has all the information he needs to get her back," Jason added.

"But he shouldn't be the only one looking for her," Minette protested.

"We don't know where to start looking, Minette. And we don't know who took her. Or why," Micah reminded her.

"She never stopped looking for you when you were gone," Minette said, shifting her attention to the man at her back. Jason heard the accusation that she wouldn't put into words. Minette thought Micah was doing Aedan disservice by not returning her efforts.

"And she nearly drove herself into the ground because of it, Minette. Because she had no idea where to look. Maybe she knew who took me, but she didn't know where they took me to. And she wore herself out trying to find me. So that she could bring me home to you."

"I owe her the same effort, Micah. You and I both do. She's my friend. I love her. I should be trying to find her." It was plain to hear the guilt there.

"Leave that to Edward. He has more experience in these things," Jason said softly. He stroked a hand up her arm in an attempt to soothe her. She frowned at him and pulled away, extricating herself from between the two of them so she could climb out of the bed and pace across the floor. When she stopped, she was nearly all the way across the room. She stared at the two of them with displeasure.

"You mean he has more experience with torturing people in order to get what he wants," she replied.

Jason slid out of bed and stood facing her. "Yeah. Actually, that's exactly what I mean."

"You think I can't torture someone?" she asked, giving him a look that told him anything he said was going to cause nothing but trouble.

"I never said that. I said Edward has more experience than you do. You've never tortured someone," he said, then pinned her with a look. "Have you?"

She gave him her stubborn face, making him think she wasn't going to actually answer his question. But she heaved a sigh and he watched as some of the tension leaked out of her shoulders. "No. I haven't."

"Exactly. I firmly believe you have the stomach for it, given the right circumstances. But you lack basic knowledge and experience with it. That's something Edward has in spades. Let him put it to use and find out where Aedan is." Jason fell silent a moment and simply stared at her. He saw the look on her face and thought maybe he understood. "She isn't going to feel like you let her down because you didn't rush to her rescue, Minette. That isn't how Aedan is. You know that."

"But she'd do it for me," Minette replied.

"In a heartbeat," Micah agreed. "But you're not her. And she knows that better than almost anyone. Aedan isn't going to be mad if you don't burst through the door, guns blazing, and save the day. More likely than not, she'll be glad you stayed out of it and stayed safe. Just imagine how nasty she'd get if she learned you put yourself in harm's way for her."

"Probably as nasty as I got with her for doing that exact thing," Minette said softly.

"You can't take those words back," Micah said gently, coming around the end of the bed to stand by Jason. "But you can offer her an apology. And not let those words come between your friendship. She's probably going to need your shoulder to lean on when she gets back."

"Aedan doesn't need people," she returned, voice soft. Likely to try and hide the emotions that were bubbling under the surface. Jason heard them anyway. So did Micah.

"Of course Aedan needs people. She just doesn't know how to ask for help. She's going to need you to offer that help without her asking. Try it. You'll see." He smiled at her, then held his hand toward her. "Come back to bed and get some sleep, Minette. You haven't gotten much of that lately. Edward will bring her home. You'll see."

Jason was sure Minette would tell Micah no. She stayed where she stood for a long time, simply staring at the two of them. He was about to give up on her returning to bed when she finally sighed and nodded, then crossed to where they both waited for her. Micah folded her into his embrace and Jason wrapped his arms around her from behind. Once they'd hugged her tight and showed her they loved her, they prodded her back up into the bed and once more wrapped themselves around her.

This time, when she slept, it was deeply and without disturbance.

~*~*~*~*~

The building he pulled up in front of looked mundane. Plain and ordinary. Just another industrial site amidst a group of industrial sites. They were in another city, one of the surrounding suburbs, in the warehouse district. The place seemed as run down and forgotten as any other building crowding around it and a curious glance his way saw Edward assuring her that they were where they were supposed to be. "Trust me. We're in the right place. She's in there."

She wasn't sure she was ready to believe him. Information was notoriously unreliable when it was obtained under torture. But she had to trust that he'd gotten the right information simply because to do otherwise was to condemn Aedan to more pain.

They were parked outside of a pair of padlocked gates. A cyclone fence chased itself around the large building and a large white sign with red letters spelling out "Keep Out. Private Property." had been secured to one of the gates. After telling her to stay in the car, Edward slid out from behind the wheel and headed for the gates. Janika wasn't surprised when he pulled a slim case out of one pocket, opened it, and selected a pair of tools from it. She wondered why he didn't have a set of bolt cutters, but thought that asking him might get her shot. Though his face was still frighteningly blank, there was a sense of determination to him that she couldn't miss. He was eager to get inside. Eager to find Aedan. Eager to kill those who had hurt her. By the time Janika was finished with her thoughts, he had the lock open and was tugging on the chain. The gates slid open almost silently.

He was apparently a man of many, many talents.

Returning to the car, he slid back behind the wheel and put it in gear, then drove them through the opening. She pulled her .22 from its holster and clicked off the safety. Her companion brought his vehicle to a halt before the only door that graced the entire front of the building. After killing the engine and pocketing the keys, he turned to look at her. "Every thing I say." It was a reminder. Janika nodded in response and pushed her door open. He did the same, stepping out onto the concrete at the same time she did. They approached the door together, but she was the one who kept an eye out around them, looking for any threats coming their way.

He grasped the knob on the door with a glove encased hand, turning it slowly to see if it would open easily or require that he pick the lock.

The door swung open easily under his touch. She watched as he pulled his gun, a big matte black Glock, and held it out before him. Then he shot her a look before he stepped through the door and into the unknown. Drawing a deep breath, she followed after him. Her hands remained surprisingly steady despite her nerves.

The first room they entered looked like some kind of reception area combined with an office. There were desks cluttering up the floor, each one topped with a computer. The walls were hung with posters preaching God's love and forgiveness. Chairs sat before the desks and lined the wall by the door. Other than a couple of fake plants, there was nothing personal to the area. Edward motioned with one hand toward the far wall and its pair of closed doors. Janika nodded and headed for them, knowing that he was doing the same with the ones on his left. Together, they would explore and make sure that there were no surprises lurking around the corners.

One of her doors opened into a closet. It was small and cramped, cluttered with office and cleaning supplies. The musty odor of dirt and mold assaulted her nose, making her want to leave quickly. But she needed to be thorough. Needed to search for clues. No doubt Edward was timing her or something. Janika poked around, checking out what was stored on the shelves and pushing things around. There was a drain in the back corner, with a faucet for running water that one could use to fill mop buckets. The smell coming from the spot was particularly bad. Despite the warning bells going off in her head, Janika forced herself to go over and take a better look.

The drain and the plastic basin were stained a rusty brown. She knew dried blood when she saw it. There were piles of clothes in the corner of the basin. Gun held loosely in one hand, she reached out with the other and picked the first item up. She found herself holding pair of black dress slacks, shredded and stiff with what she was sure was dried blood. It was the same with the tattered blouse underneath. The articles of clothing were familiar. Janika was certain she was looking at the clothing Aedan had been wearing when she'd disappeared. "Fuck!" The pants dropped from fingers gone lax with shock and surprise.

There was nothing else of interest to be found in the closet. Janika located a canvas bag and dumped Aedan's abused clothing into it, finding her shoes, socks and underwear beneath the shirt. At the very bottom of the pile, and thus last into the bag, was the leather of her shoulder holster and her gun, still secured in it. Aedan might not want those clothes back, but Janika wasn't leaving anything here that belonged to her friend. She was pretty sure Aedan would very much welcome the return of her weapon. She slung the bag up on her shoulder and left the closet, moving to the second door.

The next door opened to a small office with a desk and computer like the main room. This one had more personal touches. Pictures of a family that seemed vaguely familiar. Some books. Papers that she sifted through quickly. Most of what she found was little more than a bunch of hate spewing shit meant the paint the vampires as something less than human. She'd love to take a torch to the entire fucking mess and be done with it, but that wasn't her mission. So she put her thoughts aside and continued searching the office. She didn't find anything of major importance, so she left the room to find Edward waiting for her. When he saw the bag, he lifted a brow.

"Aedan's clothes. They're bloodied. I don't think she'll want them back, but I'm not leaving them here. And her gun. I'm pretty sure she's going to want that."

"Good thinking," Edward nodded, then turned for the single door on the back wall. He spared a look, then pushed the door open and stepped through.

The sight that greeted her when she followed him through the door was a strange one. Makeshift rooms had been set up along the walls on either side of the warehouse. Each one was separated by curtains strung from wire that ran between the solid wall at the back and a wooden post at the end. Each room had a cot and a battered trunk for personal possessions. There was a cross on the wall above each cot, as well as a single shelf with three or four books resting on it. A nightstand with a lamp and a single chair made up the rest of the furniture in each room. Every last bit of it was cheap and crappy, but the smell that wafted toward the center of the warehouse floor suggested that the people who slept in those cots didn't care.

The central floor area was dedicated to several different things. There were mats spread over one section, suggesting that there was some kind of training happening. On the other side of the mats, she found rows of chairs facing a stand. A cross hung behind the stand, complete with a statue of Christ crucified to the giant thing. A kitchen area, furnished with appliances and tables with chairs spread around them stood to one side of the 'church' while the other side was bordered by a walled in area that, upon inspection, appeared to be a rather underused bathing chamber. There was a single door behind the pulpit area. Edward motioned her in that direction.

Behind that single door, they found a long, narrow hallway running the across the warehouse. There were several doors here and, together, the two of them explored them. More office type areas, with books and desks and little else. There were boxes of pamphlets in one of the rooms, all of them spewing vampire propaganda. More shit that needed to be burnt. As with the rest of the warehouse, there was no one to be found in these offices.

Janika found that odd. No people. No guard dogs. Nothing. Almost as if people had left with no intention of coming back. Janika turned to look at Edward and found him frowning ever so slightly. He obviously thought it was strange, too. But he motioned with his gun toward a stairwell at the end of the hallway and headed toward it. Janika fell into step behind him. The stairs bent back on themselves as they took them higher and dead ended on a landing before a single door. This had to be it. Together, the two of them stood outside that door and... waited.

Edward turned a cold, empty look on her. Janika could see that he was, at that moment, Death. Any anyone who got in his way would die. She was glad that he was on her side.

"No matter what we find on the other side of that door, the objective is to get Aedan out. Alive." There was no inflection in the man's voice, nothing to give away what he was feeling. And it was so soft that she almost didn't hear him. Janika felt a finger of fear worm its way down her spine, forcing her to fight with herself to keep from shuddering. It was almost as if he was discussing the weather, not the fate of one of her friends. She couldn't tell if he had anything emotionally invested in this venture or if he was simply in it for the kill. She didn't think she wanted to know.

~*~*~*~*~

Rhia woke with a start, some... ominous feeling pulling her away from much needed, blissful slumber. It had been several days since she'd had her odd, foggy vision, and she still hadn't figured out what it meant. She also hadn't had any other visions that could pertain to Aedan, her kidnappers, or the people responsible for her being grabbed. It was driving her a little insane and she was sure she'd been doing the same to Nathaniel. Of course he'd taken it in stride, as he did with such things, and that left her wondering just what she'd done to deserve someone like him in her life.

Pushing those thoughts aside, Rhia climbed from the bed and headed for the bathroom. Her head swam, just a bit, bringing a frown to her face. It had happened the other morning, too, and she'd put down as a fluke. But now, she wasn't so sure. Maybe it was stress? The past couple of weeks had been very stressful and she's spent much of it feeling disconnected from Goddess and Mother Earth. When this was all over, she was going to have to go find a nice copse of trees and get back to nature. Recharge her batteries and fine tune her center. But that was a thought for later.

She stepped into the extravagant bathroom that was adjacent to the room she and Nathaniel shared under the Circus and spent a moment feeling lost. The bathroom was almost as big as her apartment. Which was where she'd normally be, but after Aedan's disappearance and the determination that some, thus far, unknown perpetrator was responsible for said disappearance, Jean Claude had very nicely ordered Aedan's closest friends to move into his lair. For safety's sake. Part of her was convinced he was overly paranoid while another part believed he was merely using it as an excuse to keep everyone right where he wanted them. To be honest, anything was possible because it wasn't like the man shared much with any of them. Still, she supposed she could understand his desire to ensure everyone's safety. This whole thing was weighing on him far more than he was willing to let on. Just last night, she'd noted that he looked as if he was on the verge of shutting down. Or something.

Rhia took care of her morning ritual and was just stepping back out into the main room when Nathaniel entered carrying a cup of steaming hot tea. Even from across the room, she could smell the peppermint. She frowned. She would have expected the usual chamomile or perhaps a lovely green. She rarely ever drank mint or peppermint. It seemed an odd choice, but she was never one to turn down tea. So she took the cup from him when he reached her side and blew on the surface a little bit before taking a sip.

"Thank you, Nathaniel. The tea is a lovely thing to wake up to," she said before leaning in to press a kiss to his lips. He smiled.

"You're welcome." He put his hand on her back and nudged her forward, motioning with his head toward the sofa on the other side of the room. "Come sit with me. I have some news."

She gave him a look, but allowed him to steer her toward the couch in question. Allowed him to help her settle on the cushions before he took his seat next to her. Rhia watched him, the feeling of dread she'd woken with coming back with a vengeance. She really hoped he wasn't working up to telling her something terrible had happened. "What kind of news?" she asked hesitantly.

"It seems that Edward got a lead," he replied.

Rhia blinked. That... wasn't what she'd expected him to say. "What kind of lead?" she asked, taking another sip of her tea. Peppermint was a good way to help alleviate stress, and her brain had already decided it wanted to be stressed about his news. She wasn't even sure if it was good or bad news.

"I'm not entirely sure. No one really knows. What I heard was that he discovered the identity of the inside man and made use of that knowledge."

"You mean he used whatever means necessary to gain information," she replied. She wasn't sure she wanted to call it torture. Even though she knew that's what the kidnappers were doing to Aedan. Minette's connection to the other woman had told them as much. There was a part of her that felt that whatever it was he'd done to the inside man to get the information he wanted, they'd deserved it. And probably more.

Nathaniel nodded. "Yes. He tortured them for information. And it sounds like he got it. One of the wolves told me she saw him in the living area with a large assortment of weaponry spread out before him."

"He was going hunting," she said.

"So it would seem." he agreed.

"And you brought me tea because?" she asked, lifting a brow at him to punctuate her question. Nathaniel smiled in return.

"Because I know you've been anxious about Aedan lately and I wanted to bring you something to help with your nerves. Because I'm sure the news I just delivered is stressful. The waiting will be stressful. And because you like tea."

"Well," she said and smiled at him. "There is that. But bringing me a tea in the mint family doesn't help ease my concerns any. If anything, it makes me more likely to worry and stress."

"You know Aedan isn't going to hold anything you said to her against you, right? She knows you were upset and hurt and scared. She knows that you love her," he said gently.

"Maybe. But knowing that she knows that doesn't make me feel any better," Rhia responded, eyes locked on the liquid in her cup. The heat of said liquid seeped through the stoneware cup to warm her palms, which were wrapped around it. The heat was working with the tea to help soothe her nerves.

He reached up to rest his palms against her cheeks. She leaned into the warmth of his touch and felt an instant calm settle over her. She wasn't sure how he was able to do that, but she loved that he could. "Aedan loves you, Rhia. That's why she put her life in danger. Because she didn't want to see you hurt. She's loyal to her friends. To her loved ones. You could do worse than a friend like that."

"But she shouldn't have traded her life for mine," Rhia insisted. "Its not worth it."

"It is to her. And it is to me," Nathaniel said softly, then leaned in to press a kiss to her lips. "You're never going to be over the hurt that caused. And that's okay. You're allowed to be hurt and confused and angry. But you can still forgive her because she did it out of love. And she knows you'd do the same for her, if it came to it."

Rhia sighed. Hadn't she had this very conversation with herself several times over the past week and a half? Hadn't she tried to convince herself that she could let go of some of her anger and rage? It was hard, because she'd watched Aedan die. And she'd been unable to do anything about it. It had been too similar to the night that Jeremy had died. She'd found herself reliving that night in the woods and it had been too much.

"I'm not sure I'm ready to forgive her yet," Rhia admitted, voice a mere whisper of sound. Nathaniel wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her gently into his embrace.

"Its hard to watch those people we love leave us," he said. Almost as if he'd been reading her mind. Maybe he had, after a fashion. She'd told him all about Jeremy and how it had been so horrible for her, how his death had nearly wrecked her. And it was so like him to worry more about her feelings than acknowledge his own. She knew that he considered Aedan a friend. She'd been declared a member of the pard. Hell, she'd put her life on the line for the pard. And yet, Rhia had no idea how he felt about this whole mess. Because he'd put all the focus on her. On her emotions. On her feelings of betrayal.

"I do not deserve you," she said, voice so low that he likely wouldn't have heard her if not for the lycanthropy.

"That's an odd thing to say," he replied, the look on his face letting her know that he was confused by the seeming change of subject.

"You're sitting here, trying to make me feel better about what happened. You've made sure to let me know that my feelings, all of them, with regard to what happened are valid and okay. And I haven't even done an iota to help you. I don't even know how you feel about this whole thing. You're just... doing what you can to lift me up without bothering to tell me how this whole mess has affected you." She set the tea cup down so she could take his hands and stroke her thumbs across his palms. "I don't deserve you. I'm sorry that I've been all wrapped up in my head."

He offered her a smile. "Aedan's my friend. At least, I think that's how you would define our relationship. She isn't really very vocal about things like that. So of course I was dismayed and hurt when I found out what happened. I kind of wanted to strangle her for being so stubborn. But that feeling was secondary to how it all made you feel. This probably won't come out the right way, but you are far more important to me than Aedan is. I am more invested in how you feel than how she feels. I'm in love with you. So I'm always going to put you first. Always, Rhia."

The admission brought tears to her eyes. Which prompted a spike of annoyance. Worse, Nathaniel saw the tears and reached up to wipe them away before she could, his touch soft and gentle. "Damn it," she said.

"There's no reason to cry, Rhia. I'll tell you I love you everyday to stop the tears. If it'll make you smile, I'll say it a thousand times a day."

"I'm tearing up because you told me you love me," she admitted. She hated that she had to, hated that it had happened. But he only smiled, then leaned in and delivered a kiss that was equal parts sweet and tender, and deep and promising. Full of heat and intention. When he pulled back, he picked up her tea cup and put it back in her hands.

"Finish your tea. Then we'll go find some breakfast. I think there's some of that cinnamon bread that you like. And I can whip up an egg or two really quick. Something to keep your strength up. I get the feeling you're going to need it the next day or so."

The reminder of what was going on saw any lingering warmth slipping away and her stomach took a nasty dive. "You think its going to be bad?"

"If they've been torturing her for the past four days, its going to be bad. I don't know how much Aedan is capable of withstanding. She's still human. Even with Jean Claude's marks, there will be some damage that she's going to have to rest up from in order for it to heal." He paused a moment, the expression on his face slipping into something that she really didn't like. She realized he was thinking, trying to find a polite way of phrasing what he was going to say next. "And, as much as you don't want to consider it, we need to be prepared in case things are worse than we thought."

Rhia frowned at him. "She isn't dead, Nathaniel."

"We have to consider it, Rhia. If she wasn't willing to give them whatever information they needed..." he said, but trailed off when she glared at him stubbornly.

"She isn't dead. I refuse to even think about that, Nathaniel. She's not dead." She shot him a glare, daring him to contradict her, then rose to her feet and headed for the door. "You said something about cinnamon bread. And eggs. I'm hungry."

She crossed the room and opened the door, not bothering to look back and see if he was following her. She was sure he was. She just wanted him to know that the conversation was over and she wasn't going to entertain the idea that Aedan's kidnappers had killed her.

Not at all.

~*~*~*~*~

He made a motion with one hand that told her he was about to open the door and he wanted her gun pointed at anything that might come at them through the opening. Janika shifted to the side of the door and nodded, bringing her weapon up before her. His hand counted down from three, fingers curling away until none were left. He reached out and turned the knob, his hand shoving the door back hard enough to slam into the wall. There was no movement and she heard no sound. Edward shot her a look before slipping through the door.

She followed and found herself in a kind of office. There was a desk on one wall with a chair before it and a laptop sitting on its surface. A few posters were tacked to the wall, all of them bearing the lurid image of a nightmarish vampire attempting to attack a human. Each one had different things written on them, though Janika didn't take the time to read the propaganda printed on them. As with the rest of the warehouse, there was no one there. And that made her nervous. There should have been signs of people there. Should have been signs of something. Anything. But there was nothing.

There was a door immediately opposite them and her blonde companion was already on his way toward it. Janika took a breath to steady herself and followed on his heels.

Edward pressed his ear to the door for several moments, obviously listening for anything that might be behind the door. Nothing showed on his face, but he lifted a couple of fingers up where she could see them. She figured it meant he'd heard two voices on the other side of the wooden panel. He then reached a gloved hand toward it. Janika moved up behind him, though she made sure to keep some distance from him so that he had room to move. She had her gun clasped in her hands, pointed past his head at the door in preparation. He shot her a questioning look. She nodded that she was ready and tried to slow her pounding heart. His hand grasped the knob, turned it, and shoved the door open.

The smell hit them before anything else, a mix of spilled blood and stale vomit and other things. Janika felt the frown as it took up residence on her face. She didn't want to think what all the various layers of smells meant. Couldn't let herself think about it. Because if she did... She shifted her attention to the rest of the room and decided that maybe that wasn't much better. Three of the walls were bare wood, plain and empty and boring. The last wall was lined with things that glittered ominously in the dim light. Things that showed rusty brown in the dim light. Things that she was pretty sure were outlawed in quite a few countries. She went ahead and gave her attention over to the inhabitants of the room.

A pair of men were standing before a table, and the intrusion had brought their heads up. They turned to face Edward and Janika. There was a moment of expectation on their faces, then the look shifted until they wore masks of surprise. It was obvious they'd been expecting someone else. Janika could see that they were both big men with big muscles and probably very little intelligence. It looked like someone spent too much time at the gym, lifting weights. Or visiting the local tattoo parlor, if their arms and necks were anything to go by.

They were the kind of men who hurt people for a living and a paycheck. They were the kind of people who enjoyed hurting people. One of the men held a thin wooden dowel in his hand while the other had a knife. Both implements glistened wetly with fresh blood. A few drops even fell from the two implements, pattering softly to the stained wooden floor. Between their bodies, she spied a length of pale flesh decorated with droplets and arcs and splashes of red. It was one thing to know that Aedan was being tortured. It was another thing altogether to see the proof of said torture. Anger boiled up inside of her and her hands lifted until the gun she held in them was pointed right at the heart of one of the men.

"What the fuck?" the one with the knife asked. It was as far as he got. A second later, the room echoed with the sound of two explosions. Janika watched as the men's hands slowly unclenched and their chosen tools dropped to the floor with a loud clatter. They both stood there for a few moments, blinking in surprise, then swayed. Bright crimson blossomed like a flower against the flesh of both men's foreheads, showing Janika where Edward's shots had hit. Perfect kill shots. The two kidnappers could only stare stupidly at their surprise visitors for longer than Janika was comfortable with. Finally they toppled over and lay dead on the floor. Pools of blood began forming around their heads, grotesque halos belonging to men who were no angels.

Janika's gaze moved from the bodies to the table that stood behind them and the sight that greeted her tore a gasp from her throat. Aedan was spread across the flat surface, wide leather straps trapping her ankles against it. A similar strap held one wrist to the table while a metal cuff had been locked around the other wrist. It was connected to a chain that hung from the ceiling, threaded through a pulley, and had been pulled tight enough to lift her torso off the table. Her arm had been pulled straight up into the air. Based on the way her body hung at an angle, it looked as if her shoulder was completely out of joint.

Though she was naked, Aedan wore her blood like clothing. Some of it was fresh. Some of it had dried to that rusty brown that said it was old. There were bruises everywhere, all in various shades of colors. Some were partially hidden under the thin layer of blood while others were easy to see where they stood out against the white of her skin. There were fresh cuts on her thighs. They were shallow, but they'd bled heavily, staining her skin and the surface she lay on with crimson. One eye was swollen shut, the bruise around it vivid and disturbing. A clump of hair was matted to her head, crusted with dried blood. There were more marks than Janika wanted to consider. The other woman had suffered so much torture. But it was nearly impossible to catalogue it all. Her eyes refused to catalogue it all. Janika couldn't begin to imagine what else they'd done to Aedan or what information they'd wanted from her. In that moment, all Janika knew was that Aedan was much stronger than any person should have to be. "Dear God!" she breathed.

"Keep an eye out. I have to put my gun up in order to release her. Someone might show up." Edward threw the order at her even as he was tucking his weapon back into a holster hidden under his jacket. Janika nodded and turned to face the door, the gun pointed at the opening. She didn't want to look at Aedan again, didn't want to see what those monsters had done to her. A shot to the head had been too painless. Too quick. Too easy.

She heard Edward moving around, heard the soft sounds of cloth whispering against itself as he pulled off his coat. The faint clicking noise as he undid the cuffs at her ankles and wrists. Then there was a rattle of chain as he released Aedan's arm. It brought forth a faint whimper. She heard Edward shush the other woman quietly. Heard him whisper something in her ear. Then there was silence, a long and tense few seconds in which Janika tried not to let her imagination run away with her. A gasping, soft groan of pain broke the silence, letting her know that Edward was no doubt picking the injured woman up so that he could carry her out of the warehouse. Janika thought she heard Edward whispering something to the other woman again, but she couldn't be sure. This time, the sound was so soft it could have been a mouse in the walls.

"Don't hesitate, Janika." Edward's voice was glacial when he stepped up next to her. She turned to find that he had Aedan held tightly in his arms. His trench coat was wrapped around her, hiding her nudity and the damage inflicted upon her. Hair matted with dirt and blood hid the woman's face. Her head was tipped to the side, rested against Edward's shoulder limply. Her friend had obviously surrendered to unconsciousness as soon as Edward had lifted her from the table. Janika didn't know if it was pain or relief or a combination of both. It didn't matter. Not even the bottoms of Aedan's feet had been safe from the abuse. They were black and blue, and swollen beyond belief. Janika felt it would be days, possibly even weeks, before Aedan would be able to walk properly again. Even with the marks to help speed healing. "If you see anyone, just put them down."

"It'll be my pleasure." She wasn't surprised that her words came out just as cold as his own.

~*~*~*~*~

Isis rolled over onto her side and punched the pillow. Not that it needed it. The pillows that Jean Claude had on the beds in his lair were all made of the best materials. Thick and fluffy and never going flat, no matter how much she shifted and dug her head into them and punched them up when they didn't need it. She hated being unable to sleep, but that commodity had been in short supply lately. She and Damian had done their detective work and they'd turned it over to Edward and... Nothing. She hadn't heard anything from the man about it at all. Just that he'd look into it and that had been the last she'd spoken to him.

She didn't like the Edward wasn't finding anything. She didn't like that they knew absolutely nothing about what was going on. She didn't like that Minette wouldn't tell her about the little bits she got from Aedan. She didn't like that Jean Claude seemed to have withdrawn, as if he was hiding from the public and from what was happening. She didn't like that she was sitting on the sidelines, waiting to find something out.

She didn't like that she was doing nothing.

To be fair, it was hard to do something when you didn't know where to look or who to look at or even where to start looking. As far as she knew, Aedan had been unable to give them anything to go on. Or she supposed it was possible the other woman had simply kept things to herself. It wouldn't be the first time she'd done so. Isis doubted it would be the last. If there was one thing she'd come to expect from being around the vampires, it was that someone was going to hide things. She just hadn't expected that someone to be Aedan. Because it seemed like Aedan was hiding more secrets than the vampires.

Muttering a curse at her brain for the annoying circles it kept running in, she threw back the blankets and climbed from her bed. She wasn't going to get any sleep so she might as well get up and go do something. Maybe she should make use of the gym and do some jogging. Or she could have a go at the heavy bag. Maybe one of those tasks would tire her brain out, make it stop going round and round and round over the same things. Make it possible for her to sleep.

Isis went to the dresser and sought out clothes she could wear for a work out. An old pair of sweats and a tank top that hugged her torso like a second skin. Both had seen better days, but they were the best option she felt she had for work out clothes. She could head to the gym, go at the heavy bag, sweat, shower, then try and sleep again.

Maybe if she had Damian to talk to, things wouldn't have been so bad. Or if she could have curled up with a few members of the pride, the soothing feel of their energy might have been enough to quiet her thoughts and allow her to get some sleep. But Damian had gone off to his room to sleep in private. Technically, Isis knew that he wasn't really sleeping. She knew he left her alone at sunrise because he didn't want her to see him when he, for lack of a better word, died for the day. Sometimes, she wanted to call him on that, wanted to tell him that she could handle him when he was resting. But she never did. Because she honestly wasn't sure and she didn't want to find out that she wasn't capable. The last thing she wanted to do was hurt Damian.

She supposed she could go find some of the pride and curl up with them. She knew they were somewhere under the Circus. Jean Claude had extended his hospitality and protection to the pride after Aedan's kidnapping. Mostly because Isis wouldn't leave them to fend for themselves. But if she did that, she'd have to explain to them why and she wasn't sure she could actually put it into words. She knew it had to do with Aedan. But she wasn't sure what, exactly, it had to do with the other woman. Hard to seek comfort when you couldn't name what was actually bothering you.

No. Her best course of action was to seek out ways to keep her mind occupied until she was exhausted enough to drop. Then she'd be able to sleep. And she'd be able to do so without worrying about what kind of dreams her brain would bring.

Isis slid into underwear before pulling on her sweats and her tank. She found socks and her trainers, put them on her feet. Braided her hair and secured it with a band. She dug her iPod out of a drawer and tucked it into the arm band she had for just such an event. The band was secured around her upper arm, her ear buds draped over her shoulders so that it would be easy to plug them into her ears when she got started. Then she left the room she'd been given and made her way silently to the gym.

As she'd suspected, there was no one there. Probably too early for people. She retrieved a couple of towels and left them on a bench near the wall. The earbuds went into her ears. She turned the iPod on and chose a playlist loaded with music that would help her achieve the best workout she could have. Music chosen and playing, she started running around the track.

There was something to be said about the steady, pounding rhythm of her feet slapping the surface of the track. She set a moderate pace, arms swinging at her sides and braid bouncing against her back as she ran. There was something to be said about the way her blood pulsed through her veins. By the time she was halfway through her first lap, the tightness in her limbs had started to ease up. Her pace evened out, allowing her motions to become steadier. When she was starting her second lap, her brain started clearing out, leaving her without thoughts or worries or fears.

Isis lost herself in the rhythm of her run, in the pulse of music in her ears, in the way her feet pounded the floor. There was nothing to think about beyond lifting her leg, putting her foot down. Taking the next step. Nothing to worry over beyond a stray bead of sweat dropping into her eyes to sting them. Nothing to consider beyond the breath filling her lungs as she drew it in before sliding out again on her exhale. It was liberating in ways she hadn't known she needed.

The burn in her legs told her when she had enough. Nearly a full hour had passed before she felt she'd run far enough to get away from her problems. Even if only temporarily. So she slowed to a walk and made a full circuit around the track before coming to a full stop. Her eyes drifted to the heavy bag hanging in the corner and decided that she hadn't worked herself far enough into exhaustion to sleep. So she headed in that direction, determined to pound the bag until her arms ached too much to lift them.

It wasn't until her fist, freshly wrapped and prepped for a session of punching, hit the bag that she realized there was blood dried to the dark leather surface. It was old and barely held any scent. At least not until her knuckles connected and a faint whiff rose into the air. For a moment, all she smelled was the metallic tang of old blood. It was weak and faint, telling her it had been shed by some careless person some time ago. But a few moments after her initial punch, when she was full on into a routine guaranteed to tired her out, that she realized the blood was Aedan's.

Isis frowned and punched the bag hard enough that it swung crazily. She'd been trying to avoid thinking about the missing woman. But still Aedan had found a way to torment her and now Isis was right back in the thick of her thoughts. She muttered a curse, then reached out to stop the back and forth motion of the bag. Getting pissed about it wasn't going to do her any good. The sad truth was there was nothing getting mad could do but make her feel worse. All she'd wanted was a little relief from her ragged thoughts. Was that too much to ask?

The iPod switched over to a different playlist, filling her ears with something that was low and heavy and thick. Filled with the aggression and anger she felt. Perfect for punching and jabbing. Isis allowed herself to fall into the throb of the music and used it to guide her motions. Punch punch jab punch kick. Even just a single run through of that particular routine was enough to see tension sliding away and thoughts folding back into their little corners. Isis put all of her concentration into the bag, let her arms extend with force. Let her legs connect with speed. Threw herself into her routine.

It wasn't long before she found herself filled with a familiar sense of emptiness. It always happened when she took up this particular routine. She'd used it as a young woman, after she'd first been turned, as a means to control the anger that seemed to race through her all the time. She'd been taught by someone in her first pard, had been shown how to let her actions draw all of the anger from her body to leave her relaxed and empty and blank. It was always a welcome feeling when her emotions were in a state of confusion, when she was lost and scared and angry.

Right now was one of those times.

Isis punched. She jabbed. She swung her arms in newly incorporated motions to vary the damage she delivered to the bag. She kicked it. She swept it with a leg. She used every trick in her book in an effort to shake off the fear that tried to crowd close. The sense of helplessness that wanted to engulf her. The anger that rode over all of it, trying to throw her into a rage. The last thing she wanted to do was fly into that kind of rage. She'd done it before. Never again if she could help it.

She got so lost in her routine that she never heard the newcomer arrive. Never heard footsteps on the mats behind her. Never knew she wasn't alone until someone put their hand on her shoulder and startled her. She didn't think, simply reacted.

Spinning on one foot, she brought her other leg up in a move that would see her visitor swept right off their feet and left laying on their back, blinking up at her in confusion. But that didn't happen. Lettie dropped into a ball and rolled out of the way, coming to her feet just out of the reach of Isis' leg. And she came up in a ready position, hands fisted and held out before her with knees apart and slightly bent. There should have been confusion and fear in the young woman's eyes. There was nothing but a sense of anticipation.

That look was enough to see Isis stepping back, hands coming up in a gesture that said she wasn't going to attack. At the sight of it, Lettie blinked and dropped her ready position. And a touch of fear filled her eyes. Isis wondered at it, knew she'd have to start asking some questions. But not now. "I'm sorry, Lettie. I was lost in the rhythm of my routine. I didn't even hear you come in. What is it?"

"I heard something from one of the wolves that I thought you should know," the girl said, eyes filling with something intense and bright.

"What did you hear?" Isis asked, heading toward the bench near the wall where she'd left her towel. To her credit, Lettie didn't follow.

"Edward was seen in the living area with a metric fuckton of weaponry spread out before him," Lettie replied. Isis blinked and turned to look at her.

"A metric fuckton? How much is a metric fuckton?"

"The wolf said he had the entire coffee table covered with it. And there might have been some on the couch around him. The wolf said he looked cold and empty. And determined," she said. Isis frowned at that. Edward looking determined usually only meant one thing. "The wolf also said he smelled of freshly spilt blood."

Isis' eyes flew open wide. "He found something!" she insisted. It had to be. That was the only thing she could think of that would put such a look of determination on Death's face. And blood meant he'd been torturing people to get what he wanted. She took a hasty couple of seconds to wipe sweat from her face with the towel, then threw it down on the bench and hurried for the door. Lettie was right behind her, energy dancing excitedly against her skin.

"You think so?"

"It has to be. He's been focused on getting Aedan back since she was taken. He wouldn't just up and leave. He got information from a source."

"You mean he tortured information out of a victim," Lettie murmured.

"I mean he got information from a source. If he tortured someone who could give him information, they were responsible for Aedan's disappearance and torture is the least they deserved," Isis corrected.

Enhanced hearing had her halting in her steps, even though she had no idea where she was going, and turned her attention to the doorway to the kitchen. It was filled with people, human and shifters alike, though none of them were doing anything. She didn't even hear speech. Not that it mattered, because she recognized the feel of energies. And the particular pace of a heartbeat here and there. She knew who was in that room.

So Isis changed courses and stepped into the large room, shiny with all the latest appliances, and took in the faces of the people occupying it. Nathaniel and Rhia sat next to one another. Rhia absently nibbling on a bagel. Micah and Jason were on the other side of the table, looking at something on their phones. A pair of wolves Isis didn't know had one corner to themselves, and a couple members of the pard were in another. A trio of rats were clustered by the fridge. No one was speaking, but everyone was bathed in a sense of anticipation. The only two faces she didn't see were Minette and Janika.

Isis stepped into the room and went to the fridge, more than aware of every eye lifting to take in her progress. She felt Lettie come behind her. The rats moved to allow her access to the fridge. She pulled out a gallon of orange juice and poured herself a glass. Lettie declined one, so Isis returend the jug to the fridge before turning to face everyone. No one said anything. Maybe they all just knew why she was there.

Seconds later, Minette burst into the room with a frown on her face. She looked agitated. More than a little bit upset. "Minette?" Micah asked, rising from his seat.

"Its Janika," the other woman replied, voice quiet.

"What about her?" This from Jason. He sounded like he was on the verge of being unhappy. "Where is she? I thought you went to go get her?"

"I did. Her room is empty. There are files everywhere, as if she was working. But she isn't there."

Unease rippled through everyone in the kitchen as the implications of Minette's statements hit them. The Nimir-Ra gave them all a look filled with growing fear. "Janika's gone!"