I grow tired of a society of murderers that claims to be anything else. That is all they are, behind their elaborate masks.

At least Body Count is honest about it.

She stared at her computer monitor, and snarled, fist punching through the desk with ease as she felt her beast take hold, sliding even past the changed feathers that held her up against it, the Harvesters' gift. In her way, she was a deliberate monster, carefully and delicately destroying each object in the office, starting with the desk and ( Read more... )

Giselle's thoughts were quiet, laid around her like flowers in a garden ( Read more... )

Well it's 3a.m. I'm out here driving again
Through the wicked winding streets of my world
I take a wrong turn break it but I'm too far gone
I've got a siren on my tale and that's not the fine
I'm looking for

Giselle closed her eyes, summoning the symbol of Krista, a baby bird learning to try her wings. It did not fill her with tenderness, as it might ( Read more... )

The moon hung in the sky, no longer full, low and shining down on the garden where she read, sprawled out on a bench. The book was not very good, she noted, but she was attempting to understand one of the great capitalist minds of the century, Abigail had assured her, not enjoying herself. She shrugged, and moved closer to the candle, attempting to ( Read more... )

Her feet brushed sensuously against the lush carpet in the little room of the bed and breakfast they had found as she walked across the room to open the heavy curtains on the lovely evening that had fallen. The car was still there, gleaming softly in the evening light, a way back to responsibility and home when they chose, but not until. She picked ( Read more... )

Giselle was very, very drunk. Also, she was in a hot tub making out with Krista.

Still, she was fairly sure raining blood was not normal. Suddenly, through her muddled senses, she flicked out her tongue and let a drop fall on it. Oh yes, blood. This had suddenly gone from a decent party to a very good one, she thought, pleased.

Sebastian made some ( Read more... )

It was not in the Hawk's nature to complain ( Read more... )

She goes through the rites with her head in a fog, her insides packed with what feels like cotton. She knows the whipping ritual is not right for Dani, that it will only breed further rebellion, but Dre is her teacher and he insists on it. The girl will see it only as another torment devised to put her in her place, will not embrace the lessons in ( Read more... )

She carefully unbuttoned Abigail's blazer, a slow smile on her face. She knew that if the other woman was not kindred, she would be blushing. The hawk carefully pulled it away, and nodded. "Yes," she smiled. "For the Blood's Night? This is what you should wear." She did not understand the other woman's desire to hide a flawless body, to deny the ( Read more... )