Fic: A Rather Nasty Curse 1/3 Dresden/Marcone

[jade_dragoness]

Title: A Rather Nasty Curse [Part 1/3]
Author: J.D. aka jade_dragoness
Rating: PG-13, for this part at least
Pairing: Dresden/Marcone
Spoilers: Up to Small Favor
Summary: Marcone has been hit with a ‘fuck or die’ curse. Only it has a nasty twist.
Word Count: 2,230 [for this part]
Disclaimer: They belong to Jim Butcher. Lucky.
A/N: So, I got struck with this idea rather hard a few months ago because this fandom hasn’t really indulged in the usual fandom clichés I think. I’ve been slowly adding to it because I’m slow like a slow thing when it comes to writing. I’m hoping to have this it all finished by the end of the year. *crosses fingers* Comments are widely welcomed, and feel free to poke me at any mistakes I missed.
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I was enjoying a rare quiet day, tucked into my couch with a good paperback and a cold Coke, feeling utterly lazy and content with my place in the universe when someone started pounding on the door of my apartment with the urgency of someone who really desperately wanted in.

So... probably not the pizza delivery guy.

Great. I had to go and tempt fate by being smug about my day off. I shot a glare at the ceiling before I grumbled and folded a page in the book to mark my place in it then setting it down on my couch. I’ve never been one for bookmarks.

I looked over at Mouse as I got to my feet but my dog, who also did time as a small gray fur covered mountain, kept sleeping away on his rug in front of the fireplace. If whatever was at the door wasn’t setting off his spidey-senses enough to wake him up then it wasn’t something evil wanting to eat my face. Probably.

Whoever it was, they hadn’t set off the warning spells I’d littered around the surrounding neighborhood of my building, either. So that was an added indication that it wasn't something supernatural.

Still, I approached cautiously. A friend would have called me beforehand. A client would have come to my office. Or left me a message through the number I advertised in the yellow pages. Thomas and Molly didn’t need to knock because they had keys. The only other option was an enemy or a complete random stranger.

I braced myself and tugged at the door which groaned with its usual noises of protest before reluctantly opening. The groans made me wince as they always did.

I hadn't let down the wards yet so I was pretty relaxed about facing what was on the other side without my blasting rod. And it helped that my staff was only a couple of feet away in its usual resting place in the popcorn bin by the door.

As it was I barely managed to suppress a panicked yell when I finally saw who was standing on my doorstep.

It was Marcone, Gentleman Johnny Marcone, mafia kingpin of Chicago and a good chunk of the rest of the United States. One of the deadliest persons I had the misfortune to know and had ever met. And he was standing here at my door, so my freaked out reaction was perfectly excusable.

Well, it's not the sort of thing that happens to me everyday, even in my life. That’s my excuse, and I’m sticking to it.

“Dresden,” Marcone’s voice was low and harsh. But his eyes, his pale green eyes looked strange. Sort of stunned, and... and... ravenous.

He looked like his control was fraying. I had never seen him like that before. Even when Marcone had been kidnapped by Nicodemus he’d still been perfectly calm and unfazed. Not even being strung up over a huge pit to dangle as bait and waiting for monstrous loup-garou to arrive to eat him had destroyed his cool facade.

Hell, even when I’d caught him at his most vulnerable and shaken, in front of a long term care facility that held someone infinitely dear to him, he’d still managed to control himself and his impulse to kill me when he thought I posed a danger to her. The man’s soul was a freaking stainless steel fridge. He was that cold and controlled.

So something was wrong. Very, very wrong.

“Dresden,” Marcone said again, his voice growing raw. “Let me in.”

The desperate tone of Marcone’s voice had me very worried, as I said there aren’t many things that get to him. For something to scare him so badly it had to be so bad on a monumental scale that my mind boggled trying to imagine it. And I’ve seen some incredibly horrific things in my life.

I was just starting to wonder where in the hell Marcone’s bodyguards were, as I lowered the wards, when Marcone launched himself across the threshold at me. My eyes widened and I tried to grope for my staff but I couldn’t reach it in time, those last couple of feet might of well have been miles considering how fast Marcone could move.

He slammed into me and I closed my eyes. I braced myself for something, for a knife, or for hands around my throat. Something.

But all I felt was a kiss. A kiss that was hard, hungry and unrelenting.

My senses were instantly overwhelmed. Whatever else you could say about John Marcone, he was one hellavu good kisser. And God, I could feel how incredibly turned on Marcone was from the way he was pressed up against me.

I was stunned. For a moment, all I did was stand there and let him kiss me. I just couldn’t move for what seemed like an eternity. I flailed my arms and my squeak of surprise was muffled against Marcone's mouth, before getting a hold of myself and managing to shove him away, just far enough to stagger out of his reach.

Okay, what I said before about expecting mob bosses on my doorstep? Expecting same mob boss to kiss me breathless is even lower on the expectancy list. Hell, it was so unexpected it hadn't even made the list. At this point I wouldn’t be surprised if the pink dancing elephants started showing up.

What exactly had been in that soda can I’d been drinking? I thought the addition of illegal substances had already been outlawed and taken out of soft drinks by the time I was born.

I took another step back but Marcone was just too freaking fast. I was quick on my feet for a guy of my size but he made me look sluggish and clumsy.

This time Marcone’s pounce drove me down onto my floor and I swore in surprise. I’ve never been more grateful that I kept the concrete floors thickly carpeted otherwise that would have hurt. Only throwing out my arms to absorb the impact kept me from bruising.

Thank you, falling lessons from Murphy.

I tried to twist out of his grasp but he must have gotten more fighting lessons than me because Marcone managed to suppress them with ease and used his knees to lock my legs down. He also used his body weight to keep me from buckling him off, and his hands were holding down my forearms so I couldn't even leverage him off.

He looked down, and that’s when I made a small mistake, because I opened my mouth to yell at him to get off. And he kissed me again. With the same desperate and deep hunger.

I was starting to suspect a theme here.

A not-so-happy suspicion about his actions was starting to grow in my mind. But that’s when Marcone chose to start attacking my clothes, while still managing to hold me down with one hand. The strength of him, startled me. While I may have a few inches on the guy, Marcone definitely had more muscle packed onto his frame than me. I also wasn’t used to being kissed by many people who were strong to subdue a guy my size, especially not with one hand.

The last person had been Susan and she’s been tied up at the time so her super-strength and urge to bite me wouldn’t hurt me. Or her.

An idea struck me. I managed to move head enough to get my mouth away from Marcone’s kiss which broke off with a really obscene wet pop. It didn’t stop him. He just sucked the curved edge of my, now available, ear into his hot mouth.

I went cross-eyed for a moment. I shook it off, and with the little breath I had left after being kissed so intensively, I focused and gasped out, “Manacus.”

A silver rope that glittered electric blue slithered up from my lab and wound itself around Marcone. He was so wrapped up in pressing biting kisses to my neck, he didn’t notice.

I focused my will. “Forzare!”

Well, he definitely noticed when the rope yanked him back onto an armchair, tied him to it and used the last foot length to secure his hands.

I lay on the floor, panting and feeling ravaged. My jeans were undone and Marcone had just started to get his hand down them when I called for the rope. I shook my head to tried to control myself.

“Harry,” Marcone growled deeply.

Wow.

How in the hell did he manage to make my name sound so sexy? He gave it just right amount of ‘grr’ that it tingled down my spine instead of chilling it. It was the sort of skill I’ve only seen White Court vampires manage to pull off. And even then the creepy ’they-want-to-eat-me-and-not-in-a-fun-way’ factor killed the tingle pretty damn fast.

“Don‘t call me that,” I said weakly. I managed to get myself to my wobbly feet after a little pep talk to my legs to convince them not to buckle.

Marcone was looking me up and down in that way that let me know that he was mentally undressing me and the fierce way he was tugging at the rope said that he was also very much looking forward to doing it for real. I tried not to squeak again, and with my cheeks turning red, I zipped up my pants and tugged my shirt down so that it would cover my groin. Not that it was much of a shield against Marcone’s eyes but it made me feel less exposed.

My timing was perfect for once because that’s when a tall blonde Amazon named Gard walked into my apartment through the still open door and still downed wards.

Well, limped in was a more accurate verb.

My eyebrows rose, but before I could comment, Hendricks followed her in. He was sporting a set of the nastiest black eyes I’ve ever seen anyone wear. And I was counting myself in that pool of injured. If you knew anything about my history of getting injured, you’d know that was saying something.

“What the hell happened to you?” I asked them both in fascination while trying to ignore the heated looks Marcone was still sending me.

Hendricks was a small mountain of muscle topped off with a peak of red hair cut to a military buzz. And Gard was true blue Valkyrie, whom I’d seen fight after being practically disemboweled, and putting herself together with super glue and sheer grit.

Anything that tangled with both of them and managed to injure them wasn’t something I wanted to mess with.

“It was Mr. Marcone,” Gard answered me, as she looked around and caught sight of her tied up boss. Hendricks and her both looked relieved to see him in one piece.

While I just about fell over in shock from her words.

“No way.” Marcone would rather lose an arm than hurt someone in his pay. His employees were some of the best protected law-breakers in the country. At least, anyone who was loyal to him. If they were trying to take him down, that’s another story. Then not even a nuclear bunker could save you from him.

“Dresden,” Gard snapped. “He‘s not in his right mind at the moment. Or haven‘t you noticed?”

My lips, and other parts of me, tingled with memory of Marcone‘s intense kisses and warm touches.

“Oh, I noticed,” I muttered.

The looks Gard and Hendricks gave me damn near made me squirm in embarrassment. I managed to resist the urge but I had the feeling my still redden cheeks gave me away. I cleared my throat and did my best to ignore their expressions. “So, will someone please explain to me what the hell is going on?”

That’s the moment Mouse chose to pop his head into view from behind the couch. I grumbled at him. “Oh, now you wake up, fur face. Some guard dog you are.”

His pink tongue rolled out in that doggie smile and I knew my dog was laughing at me. I have the feeling my day is only going to get worse from here on out. It usually did.

Gard stepped past me towards Marcone.

“Err, I wouldn't,” I said, making her pause.

“I want to check him over,” Gard told me, tension in her shoulders.

“Okay, but don't loosen the rope,” I said, “I don‘t think I‘ll be able to catch him twice with it.” Have I mentioned how fast Marcone moves? I didn’t want to test my rope against him when he knew it was coming and had a chance to get a hold of any of the numerous knives he carries on his person. The chances of me getting enough unicorn hair to make another one where pretty slim right now.

The Summer Court of the Sidhe and I are not on the friendliest terms at the moment. It’s a long story.

She nodded and knelt by the chair.

Marcone gave her a cool glance, before turning his gaze back to me. The heat flooded his eyes again. I squirmed and turned away only to catch Hendricks giving me an uneasy look and from the way his fingers twitched I could tell he wanted to pull his boss out of there. Or pull a gun on me. It could go either way with him.

I scowled at Hendricks.

The faster these two got Marcone out of my place the better.

TBC in Part Two