The House of the Rising Sun

[ladydeathfaerie]

Title: House of the Rising Sun
Fandoms: a cross over between Marvel's X-Men(to some degree) Universe and the Anita Blake Universe
Rating: no one under 18. there will be blood and gore, sex and violence. dirty language and whatever else i feel like tossing in here.
Warning: as i said, sex and violence and dirty words. said sex will include, but not be limited to, M/F, M/M, M/F/F, F/F, M/M/F and probably any other combination i can work out. weak stomach, not my fault. you have been warned.
Disclaimer: i do not own anyone from the Marvel universe. i do not own anyone from the Anita Blake universe. i don't even own Gin. i'm lucky to own myself. i swear i'm not making any money from this. i just do what the sick voices inside my head tell me to. i write purely for my enjoyment. and possibly the comments. please don't sue, harass or bother me. i have no money to pay you, but i do have a really nasty temper. and i know some good cuss words.

Author's Notes: the shit has hit the fan, folks. and the Master's name was Gin's suggestion. kind of ironic, non?

The House of the Rising Sun: The Index


There was already a line formed before the door when Anita pulled the car up before the club. She and Edward had scouted the area earlier in the day, while there was still light. Together, they'd discovered that the club was connected to the Master's lair. She was surprised and yet not. It made it easier to ferret their victims away without being caught. An inquiry about the property with the right people had gotten them a look at the plans to the buildings, as well as the sewage system around the church grounds. There were plenty of ways to dispose of a body without being seen. She had all the information she needed to get a warrant. First, she was going to meet with the Master.

Lull the bitch into a sense of security before she took her down.

Nathaniel had thought the idea of he and Micah checking out the club and looking for the missing women was a good idea. What better place to blend than a building that was filled to the brim with life? They weren't supposed to do anything other than try and find the women, see if they could make contact and determine if the theory about coercion was right. The fact that Nathaniel was a stripper would make the dancing angle work better. Even Micah would be able to move with the crowd, his leopard side providing him with a grace that no human dancer could rival.

"You know what to do, right?" Anita asked yet again.

"Yes," Nathaniel offered her a faint smile. She could hear exasperation in his voice. "We're only supposed to check out Miss Munroe's story about the girls being kidnapped. Make sure that they're there against their will. We can't tell them who we are and that we're there to help in case the vampires have access to their thoughts. Relax, Anita. We know what we're supposed to do. Everything will be fine."

"Try to stay away from as many vampires as possible. Jean Claude said the Master can call leopards. I don't want you to put yourself in harm's way," she stared at him. He just nodded his head at Micah.

"I think he can help hold me back," he told her. "You worry too much. Maybe its time to switch to decaf. Really. It'll be fine."

"We won't be able to stay long enough to get in trouble. If any of her leopards are in the club, they'll know I'm an alpha. Hopefully, the sheer number of people will give us time to do what needs done," Micah said. Then he sighed and opened the door. "Let's go. Before that line gets any longer."

She leaned across the seat toward him and brought her lips to his. The kiss was gentle and full of promise. When they broke apart, she did the same with Nathaniel. He chuckled and slid out of the car. Micah followed him and she took a moment to watch the two of them stalk across the parking lot. Animal grace made flesh headed for the doors. For a moment, she worried about them in there with all those people. Then she shoved the thought aside. Micah and Nathaniel, she trusted. It was everyone else who was suspect.

~*~*~*~*~

Moving was slow, her limbs stiff despite the hot shower she'd taken. It didn't help that the corset was pulled as tight as she could have it and still breathe or move. It did well to hold the bandages in place, too. Gin sighed and glanced at Jo. She hadn't said anything since... after. Not even Remy had been able to coax anything out of her. She'd remained silent the entire day. She'd even sobbed silently in the shower, back turned so that Gin wouldn't see the tears.

They were at the bar, watching. Waiting. Gin could sense that Remy was close by but she had yet to spot him. His concern touched her constantly, thick and clinging like a vine. The more she tried to push it away, the harder it stuck to her. She wasn't even sure that Jo had noticed it. Her friend was on her third rum and Coke. Each one had come with a shot of something that smelled vaguely like black licorice. She had no name for it, other than it was doing a fine job of getting Jo drunk.

The crowd was as wild as usual. There were too many bodies writhing in time to the music, a virtual sea of flesh and blood. And not a one of them realized how much danger they were in. Tonight, there were vampires and wereleopards patrolling the floor, each of them stiff and alert. Gin wondered what it meant. Music pulsed loudly through the speakers, vibrating up into her brain from the soles of her feet. She felt a flare of anger brush her and felt her eyes snap to the left. Darious was headed straight for them. She touched Jo's arm. "Come on. We need to get on the floor. Before we get into trouble," she said next to her friend's ear. She let her know with a slight motion where the trouble was.

Jo said nothing, simply tossed back the remainder of her drink and allowed Gin to pull her out onto the floor with her.

The crowd opened for them, a circle forming around them as they moved into position. Jo was wearing a silk tank top in black. Her mini skirt matched. The only color was the bloody red of the cinch at her waist. She wore footless tights and no shoes. Gin had dressed in a black satin corset with red dragons on it. The lacing was red, as was the stitching that ran down the sides of the leather pants she wore. With her boots, she was as tall as Jo was. Tonight, she would be the dominant one.

She swung her friend into place before her, then carefully pressed herself against Jo's back. At first, the other woman didn't move. Panic hit and Gin leaned in, her mouth next to Jo's ear. She whispered for all she was worth, giving her every single reason she shouldn't let them win. Tension ran along the other woman's limbs and her head was tilted down, her hair hiding her face. Then there was a whisper of something against her skin. She knew by the way the other woman reacted that Jo had felt it, too. The tension drained away and soon the two of them were moving to the beat of the song.

Their dancing wasn't as smooth as usual, hindered by the aches left behind after their physical assaults. But what their movements lacked in grace was made up for in honest, genuine emotion. Even though Jo hadn't spoken to her all day, her actions conveyed everything she needed her friend to know. There was love there in her touches, faith in the way she moved in complete synchronicity with Gin. If they could find a way out of this hell hole, steal Remy away and take him with, she knew that everything would be fine. Any longer here and she thought she might lose her friend.

The music changed mid-song, sliding into something that matched their slow, sensual twists and turns. The beat pulsed in time with their hearts, rolling through them the same way pleasure did. It loosened their limbs, allowing for broader, freer range of motion. They moved with less stiffness, some of the grace coming back to them for just a few moments. Gin's hands explored, moving carefully over Jo's body. Her touches were feather-light. skimming those places where she knew there were bruises and open sores. It gave the illusion that she was caressing the other woman. She could feel the crowd respond, a leap in the need swirling around them.

Carefully, she turned Jo to face her. While there was an almost sensual smile on the woman's face, there was sorrow in her eyes. And pain. And regret. She had to kiss that look away. Carefully, she curled her hands around her friend's cheeks and pulled her mouth close. The kiss was thick with the things neither one of them could or would say. Every last bit of concentration went into the kiss, until the two of them stopped moving and simply fell into one another.

For the barest beat of a heart, the entire club faded away. The music faded, the crowd disappeared and the smoky haze that hung in the air ceased to exist. It was simply them, their hands moving delicately over each other, their mouths locked and feasting with a slow, lazy, burning kiss of passion that had nothing to do with the emotions around them. Warmth slid around them, through them both, offering them just the smallest bit of protection, before a wordless nudge broke them apart.

Sound and color returned in a rush, the staleness of the air choking them after the purity of that single moment. For a handful of seconds, they simply stared. Then Jo smiled and, just like that, her friend was back. Gin's mouth curled up in a smirk and she cocked a brow before she spun her partner away from her.

It was an old move. One they'd done a dozen times before. But never after having been abused so harshly by angry lycanthropes. She could see it happening and could do nothing to stop it. Jo's feet tangled in one another as she turned, tripping her. She was going to fall, probably injure herself worse than she was. Even knowing this, Gin tried to go after her, tried to catch her. But the tumble never happened. Before she could even register what happened, Jo was enclosed in the arms of a young man who was only an inch or so taller than the woman he held. She was staring up at him, eyes wide with disbelief. When he smiled...

Christ on a crutch, the world stopped turning.

His hair was long, hanging in soft waves down to his ankles. Even in a loose pony tail. He was wearing soft, worn leather pants that hugged his legs like a second skin. When a plain white light slid over him, Gin could see that the tank top he wore was a pale lilac. He glanced over Jo's shoulder at her, then winked. And he moved.

He had Jo's body tucked against his, arms wrapped around her tightly as if she were the most delicate flower. His hips led the way and Jo followed. She slid her arms around his shoulders, clinging to him the way she'd only ever clung to Gin or Remy, and flowed across the dance floor with the man. He was all fluid, artful grace made flesh. His moves were sinuous and sensual. Sinful. For a fraction of a second, Gin thought she was jealous. Then she was pulled into a pair of arms, turned to face the person behind her. The man she was staring at was positively divine.

The music shifted into something a little dirtier. He followed it, taking her with. They met up with Jo and the man she was dancing with, the four of them poised in the very center of the circle. Almost before their partners spun them into motion, the crowd was begging for more. Thighs rubbed and hips ground, chests pressed into one another. Some scent tickled her nose, something warm and soothing. Something that made her think she was safe and at home. She found she couldn't tear her eyes from her partner. Or she didn't want to.

His hair hung in curls around his face, his body compact beneath the silk of his shirt. His shoulders were broad while his hips were narrow and she could feel the power in his arms and legs as he moved through the dance with her, as his thighs brushed hers and his arms held her close. He was smiling at her, eyes trained on her face. She was so caught up in her partner that it took her a while to realize that the two men moved in perfect unison.

It also took her a while to realize that the entire club had come to a stand still.

The song changed again, faster and heavier this time. Darker. More ominous. His body's moves shifted with it. He guided her through the dance again. She could see, out of the corner of her eye, the other man twirling Jo through a complex series of movements that he made look like simple child's play. And Jo watched him with a fascination that she more than understood, caught up in her own as she stared at her partner.

It ended as abruptly as it began. In the blink of an eye, Ivan and Dmitri materialized out of the crowd. She was jerked roughly from her partner's arms and shoved behind the man who'd been abusing her only hours earlier. Jo actually struggled in Dmitri's hold, unwilling to allow him to touch her. Gin watched as he drew back his arm to hit her, a blow that would have broken her neck if it were delivered. But then Remy was there, gently prying her from the man's hold. He held out a hand to Gin and she went to him thankfully. Under the music, she could hear Ivan growling. Worse, she could feel the prickle of his power against her skin.

And there was an answering call of power, but she couldn't be sure where it was coming from. Remy looked up at the two strangers and simply stared. After a moment, he nodded his head, then tucked the two of them under his arms. "Come, petits. Dat enough for now," he urged gently. "We go sit down, hmmm? Rest."

Gin snuck a glance back toward the floor where they'd just been. The strange men were already gone.

~*~*~*~*~

"Nathaniel," Anita's voice was almost strident as he climbed into car and settled into the seat. She was staring at him over the back of the seats. "You're bleeding."

"No, he's not," Micah shook his head. He took the front passenger's seat and closed the door behind him. "Its not his blood. It belongs to the girl he was dancing with."

"She was bleeding? What happened?"

"I smelled blood. And I could scent fear. It spiked when those big guys showed up." Nathaniel glanced back at the club and frowned. "She was in pain. I could tell by the way she held herself. The tension in her muscles. And there were a couple moments when she moved stiffly."

"Which one?" she asked, digging for the picture.

"The redhead," Edward said as he slipped into the car. They turned to look at him. He was wearing all black, a pair of beat up leather pants and a t-shirt that clung to him. Over that was a black trench coat. He'd even put gel or something in his hair to spike it up. "The two of them are pale. I don't think its from donating blood."

"You think something's happened?" She asked the question from between clenched teeth. Micah stared at her. He could hear the strain in her voice. Nathaniel most likely did, too. Each piece of information made it just that much harder. This wasn't going to be easy at all.

"Judging by the way they reacted to the two leopards who came and pulled them away from us," he said slowly, considering it. "Yes. There was something almost wild about the two of them. And they were angry. I don't know if it was because we were poaching on their territory or if it was something the women did. But they were both angry."

"Whatever's going on in there is almost like a ritual," Edward said. Anita nodded and turned the engine over. It was time to move. Micah was fairly certain she didn't want any one associated with that kiss to know what she'd been doing there tonight. He waited until they were on the road, on the way back to their hotel, before he turned to face the blonde in the backseat.

"What do you mean? What kind of ritual?"

"I was inside before you were. Those people were waiting for something. Even I could tell. When those girls walked out of the bar area, the crowd started parting immediately," he explained.

"I overheard someone say they wondered who the girls would be picking tonight," Nathaniel added. His voice sounded thoughtful. "The person next to them said that whoever it was would be one lucky bastard."

"I asked a few questions," Edward told them, his voice sounding grim. Even for him. "Apparently, the girls dance like that almost every night. Half a dozen times or more. And they always pick up someone. Man, woman, couple. It doesn't matter. After a brief show for the crowd, they take their chosen prize back to a room for some... fun."

"They smelled like the two leopards who came to get them," Micah frowned as he stared out the windshield. "It was buried under layers of soap, deodorant and perfume. I could smell it under the fear and the desperation. On both of them. The men were quick to raise power. They were... I want to say they were jealous. Especially since I think the girls were starting to enjoy themselves with us." He turned to look at Nathaniel.

"The one I danced with seemed to relax for a little bit with me. But the stink of fear when those two showed up. It drowned out everything. Micah's right. They're desperate," Nathaniel agreed.

"There was another man," Edward frowned. "Vampire. He came to their rescue. Got there at almost the same moment the weres did. The girls went to him without complaint. The looks he shot at the leopards suggests he doesn't like them anymore than the girls do."

"They were glad to see him," Micah nodded. "Which is odd. I got the impression that they didn't want to be there at all. But the moment he showed up, they were good. Some of the fear slid away. Not all of it, but most."

"What do you think?" Anita's eyes flicked from Micah to Nathaniel. Then she sought out Edward. "Based on what we know, what do you think is going on in there?"

"Those girls are in deep trouble," Edward sighed. Micah thought he sounded tired. Maybe he was. Maybe he was upset that he hadn't gotten to kill anything. Maybe the situation disgusted him as much as it seemed to disgust everyone else. "Taking into account what everyone has said, what the witch who called you told you, I'd say its a good bet that they're being held against their will and that they're being forced, either through threats or other means, to do what the vampires want them to. The fact that they're hurt indicates that the vamps are tiring of them. And what I saw in there was a pissing match. Over territory and property. Micah and Nathaniel invaded their space and played with their toys. They didn't like it."

"What about the vamp that came to their aide? Could he have them bespelled or something?"

"I wasn't close enough to see what was going on. But it didn't seem like it." Edward shook his head. "I don't like this, Anita. Those vampires are breaking all kinds of laws. Human and undead alike. They need a serious case of permanent death."

"We don't have enough solid information to go in there and just start chopping off heads. Maybe, if the girls can give us the last piece of the puzzle, that will be enough. Right now, we only have theory and a damned good suspicion." Anita turned and pulled into a late night coffee house drive thru. After she collected a cup of far too expensive coffee, she turned the car back out onto the road and continued the conversation as if she'd never left off. "We just have to get the girls out of there. Before they get killed."

"I think its a close thing, Anita." Nathaniel's voice came out soft. A glance at him proved to Micah that he was lost in thought. "I've seen that look before. Its desperation and desolation rolled up into one. They haven't quite given up hope that things will change for the better. But that'll happen soon if they aren't rescued. They're looking for a way out. Either someone helps them escape or they'll let the vamps kill them just to end it. It was like that for people when I was on the streets. They wanted a Prince Charming but they'd take a drug overdose just the same."

"Shit," she muttered. Micah reached out and touched her arm. "Now we just have to figure out how to get them the hell out of there without pissing off the Master of the City."

"I think I might have a plan that will help." Edward's face was blank and empty as always. But Micah could hear the smile in his voice.

~*~*~*~*~

"Just what the fuck do you think you're doing?" Ivan's voice stopped them in the hallway. Remy's arm tightened on her and Gin saw Jo actually inch a little behind him. Dmitri stood next to him. Both men wore exactly the same ugly expression on their faces. Anger rolled off them in powerful waves. She gave herself a headache trying to block it out. A quick glance up at Remy's face showed that he was staring at the men with what appeared to be mild curiosity. "They're supposed to be on the floor, working the room."

"Dey done wit' dat for de night," Remy told him evenly.

"That isn't for you to decide," Ivan sneered at him, eyes glittering with hatred. "That's the Master's choice. And she wants them on the floor. Working. Earning their keep. They aren't good for anything but fucking anyway. And even that's not worth the effort."

"Bastard," Jo hissed at him.

"You stay quiet, bitch. Or I'll find something to gag you with," he snarled in return. It was plain to hear in his voice that he already had something in mind. For the first time since they'd been brought here, Gin actually felt anger from the man beside her. She glanced up and saw that his expression hadn't changed. But the tension in his muscles belied it. "They better be back up on the floor in ten minutes."

"What you gon' do if dey not?"

"This isn't up for negotiations. Either they're up on the floor or I'm coming for you." Ivan smiled, a scary thing that held a world of promise in it. Even Gin found herself pressing closer to Remy's side. "With a hammer and a stake. Or maybe..." He held up a hand and slowly shifted it until he had claws again. "Maybe I'll just rip your heart out of your fucking chest."

Remy smiled at that, a slow, lazy smile that she'd seen on his face before. Once, five years ago, some guy had tried hitting on her in a bar. He'd been nasty and she hadn't liked what she'd felt from him. Jo'd gone to the bathroom and Remy'd gone to get a fresh round of drinks. The guy had come out of nowhere.and started in on her like she was supposed to think he was the best thing since sliced bread. Remy'd returned and been told to get lost. He'd smiled the same way. And then he'd done something that had convinced the creep to leave her alone, but she'd never figured out what. "You tink that a wise idea?"

She never saw Ivan move. One second, she was holding tight to Remy's arm. The next, she was shoved behind him. The leopard was shoved almost absently against the wall with one hand, lifted up until his feet dangled several inches above the floor. Dmitri had taken two steps forward before Remy turned and pinned him with a stare. Gin actually felt power coalesce around him. Both of the leopards whimpered softly, an almost imperceptible sound. When he released them, it was with a casual disregard that only drew more anger.

He turned to collect her and Jo. Ivan moved. It was like it was happening in slow motion. She saw the other man launch himself at Remy's back. Even with his preternatural speed, she didn't think Remy would be able to turn in time and cut off the attack. Then there was a dark blur and Ivan was once more held up against the wall. This time, it was Darious who held him. Even Dmitri cringed back from the man.

"Just what do you think you are doing, Ivan?" Darious asked. Gin noticed he pronounced it as Eee-vahn and not Eye-vun. "Do you think you can simply attack one of the Master's people and be allowed to get away with it?"

"He's disobeying the Master's orders. Those little whores are supposed to be on the floor, looking for food. He has no right to counter the Master," Ivan spat, eyes flashing with his rage. "They didn't find anyone. They just danced with those two intruders. The one was powerful enough that..."

"Enough!" Darious snarled. Ivan fell silent. Gin allowed Remy to gather her to his side. He did the same with Jo a second later and he held tight. As if he were holding nothing more substantial than a crumpled up ball of paper, Darious threw Ivan away from him. The man landed on all fours and crouched there, mouth opened in a hiss. His clawed hand dug into the stone of the floor. "You forget your place, cat. You are nothing more than a pet for the Master to play with. This one is the Master's favorite toy. Harming him means painful punishment."

"He has danced around her orders, defying her at every turn. Those two whores aren't doing what they're supposed to do!" Ivan spat. "And she lets them all get away with it. If he were gone, they'd have no one to keep them from their work."

"Whatever Remy wishes to do with his humans is his business. And the Master will deal with his rebellious nature when the time is right. You, however," Darious flicked a dispassionate gaze at the two weres. "You are little more than animals. The Master suffers your presence because you guard our lair during the daytime hours. You are more resilient then a pitiful mortal and you make a decent snack. The idea that you would dare harm one of the Master's children is laughable. Even a vampire so young as he is capable of rending you asunder with little trouble. Remember your place, beast. Or I shall put you in it myself."

Ivan rose to his feet, looked past Darious to where Remy stood. There was such pure hate in his eyes that Gin felt it like a physical slap to the face. "This isn't over, boy." His voice was a low grumbling sound that had no right coming out of a human throat.

Remy just tipped that smile at him, then turned and walked off with Gin under one arm and Jo under the other. Gin didn't relax until they were once more behind their bedroom door.

~*~*~*~*~

"We can't stay in here forever," Gin sighed, her gaze locked on the door. "We need to go out there to eat."

"If we go out there, Ivan and Dmitri will only make things bad for us," Jo replied from the chair she'd curled herself into. She was shocked and amazed that neither one had come through the door after sunrise to make good on last night's threat. Maybe Darious had smacked them around some? She shook the thought off as soon as it came. She didn't think that the man would do any such thing. He didn't like Remy anymore than Ivan or Dmitri. He sure as shit didn't like her.

"Do you really think they'll bring us food? We can't stay in here. I'm hungry. I know you are, too. I've heard your stomach rumbling. Come on. I don't think the Master would let them do anything to us," Gin insisted. Jo looked up at her and snarled.

"If that were true, they wouldn't have raped us for fear of having her rip their nuts off. She doesn't care what they do to us, as long as we can work the floor for her. I think I'd rather starve than bring her anyone else to terrorize."

"Do you really want to leave him to her?" Gin asked softly, her eyes moving to the hidden door that led to a room where Remy slept during the day. It was a closet, really. He'd told them that he wouldn't sleep in the bed with them, that he didn't want them to see him when he died. He was afraid that it would scar them permanently. At first, they hadn't argued with him. But now, they didn't dare let him out of their site. They were afraid that they'd never see him again.

"She's as in love with him as she can get," Jo snorted. "If a monster like that can feel anything, that's what she feels for him. She won't hurt him. She needs him too much."

"What happens to him if we aren't here for him?" The question was asked so quietly that Jo barely heard it. She looked up and saw the fear on Gin's face and shook her head. She didn't want to leave him again and Gin knew it. It had been her hairbrained idea to come to New Orleans and look for him. Maybe if she'd let it go, they wouldn't be this deep in the shit. But if she'd done that, she'd never have seen him again. Never have had him touch her with his agile hands and his bourbon smooth voice. Much as she hated the situation they were in at present, he was the only reason it was even remotely bearable. She glanced to the door and sighed. "You heard him. He's only alive because of us. He was ready to give up. She's sucked everything out of him."

"We need to get out of here. Before she tires of him. Before Ivan and Dmitri do anything worse to us than they have. All three of us need to go."

"Where? Where can we go? She's his master. She'll find him. Hurt him. She owns us through him and..."

"That bitch," Jo hissed as she came to her feet. "Does not own us."

"Hiding in here says she does," Gin replied. Jo frowned at her. "Hiding in here pretty much says you expect her to protect us from them. That you're relying on her psychotic nature to ensure our safety."

"How the hell are we supposed to fight them?" At this, Jo stood and pulled her t-shirt up to expose a bruise that was creeping slowly from her side across her stomach. It was so dark, it was black. "This is what happens when we fight. This is what happens when they hit us. Every time Ivan gets near you, he digs his claws into you. Every fucking time!"

"I told you. If you don't fight, he won't hurt you," Gin said. Jo shook her head at the other woman.

"The man is fucking psycho. He'll hurt us just because he can. He's got a special hate on for you. I refuse to let him kill you."

"So you're going to keep challenging him? Let him kill you instead? Is that what you're planning on doing?" When she said nothing, Gin snorted and headed for the door. "I can't believe you. Are you even the same person who dropped sugar and tampons into her ex-boyfriend's gas tank to get him to stop following her? I don't think I know you anymore."

"We're nothing but food here, Gin. Or play things. We don't have a place. Remy is the only one keeping us from either being beaten to death, eaten or drained. And he can't do it forever. You said yourself he can't fight them all. We're alive because the Master is using us. When she tires of it... I don't want to see what happens." Gin stared at her a few moments, then shook her head and slipped out the door.

Jo stood there, just looking at the closed panel. Several minutes passed before she let go a growl of frustration. Anger swelled. Turning, she scooped up a chair and threw it across the room with rare strength. "FUCK!" The chair hit the wall and promptly broke into several pieces. When it dropped to the floor, she blinked a few times. Then she smiled.

If Ivan wanted to fight, she'd give him a fight.

~*~

Rough laughter echoed out of the communal area. It wasn't exactly a living room. There weren't any couches or chairs, just a collection of large, overstuffed pillows. The walls had been decorated with lush spills of materials. There were sheers, silks, satins and velvets hung from the center of the ceiling and pulled to the corners where wall met ceiling, then left to hang down in a cascade of cloth that created a tent-like appearance. The only problem was every bit of it was in a deep, bloody red color so that it looked like the walls literally ran with the stuff. It wasn't helped by the large, wrought iron stands that held half a dozen candles each. The light flickered wetly off the material.

She entered the room to find Ivan, Dmitri and several others crowded around one of the piles of pillows. She could see shredded cloth on the floor at their feet. It was all she needed to know. The anger was back, blossoming into full blown rage. They were not going to harm Gin again. Not if she could help it.

Launching herself across the room, she swung her makeshift bat and took Dmitri on the side of the head. She heard something crunch, felt something splatter her face. It didn't stop her, instead spurred her on to the next man. He turned just as she swung again and the chair leg smashed against his face. He fell back, clutching his nose and howling in pain. Before she could take a swing at anyone else, a hand connected with her arm sharply. Pain spiked up into her skull, her hand going numb. The abused piece of wood fell from her grasp to land with a soft thud in a pile of pillows. She found herself face to face with Ivan.

"Meddling bitch," he snarled. One of his hands curled around her throat and he lifted her. Jo clung to his hand, nails digging into his flesh hard enough to draw blood. He shook her, a growl rumbling up his chest. He was cutting off her air with slow, deliberate motions. She kicked at him until he squeezed harder. "You're going to pay for that. I'm going to break every single bone in your body. And I'm going to fuck you six ways from Sunday. When I get done with you, you'll be begging me to kill you."

"Go fuck yourself," she gasped out and kicked a leg out. Her aim was lucky and there was enough strength behind her action that connection drew a screech of pain from him. She felt her foot slam up against the length of his cock, hard and straining his trousers. Too bad there wasn't a bone in the damn thing. She'd probably have broken it with her strike. He tossed her from him. She found herself sprawled among the pillows, blinking at the ceiling and gasping for air.

Ivan was looming over her. "I'm going to kill you slow, whore. I'm going to make you scream the entire time. I'm going to hurt you bad."

She rolled and tried rising to her hands and knees. One of his feet landed on her back to push her down onto her belly. It lifted away, but she never got a chance to roll over again. Before she realized she was free, he was kneeling over her, his hands digging under the waist of her jeans. His anger beat against her skin, a blinding rage that would have been able to kill if it had been tangible. She dug her hands into the pillows and tried to pull herself forward. He jerked her back toward him and she felt the denim give. Then the air was filled with the sound of cloth ripping. No! He wasn't going to do that to her. She wouldn't let him.

"Get off of her!" Gin's voice was as filled with rage as the man on top of her. There was a dull, meaty thud and then the weight on her back was gone. Jo scrambled to her feet and turned to find Gin with the chair leg in her hands. Ivan was slowly getting to his feet, shaking his head. Jo could see a smear of blood high on his forehead. "If you touch her again, I'll kill you."

"Oh, I will touch her again. I'll touch both of you. I'm going to take a great deal of pleasure in breaking you until you're nothing more than whimpering bags of flesh," Ivan told her. Jo could see the air ripple around him, power swelling until fur started sprouting and bones started reshaping themselves. In a matter of moments, he stood before them as half man and half animal. He advanced on them slowly, growling the entire time.

Shit! How the hell was she supposed to fight this? Ivan was twice the size she was. He had claws and really fucking big, really fucking sharp teeth. It wouldn't take much effort on his part to kill her, to rip her to shreds. He could incapacitate her and leave her to die, bleeding and broken, while he turned his attention to Gin. She inched closer to Gin. The cat-like creature moved closer to them both. She didn't have to look to see that the others were circling them, effectively boxing them in so that there was nowhere to go. Not that they'd be able to outrun him.

She wished Remy was there, but it was still daylight out. He wouldn't wake until the sun was down, which was still some time away. They were so dead.

Ivan waited another second or two, then launched himself at them. He actually leapt into the air to pounce on them. Jo grabbed Gin's arm and jerked her to the floor so that Ivan sailed over them. The two of them scrambled to their feet just as he turned and came at them again. This time, he'd counted on her pulling them down so he'd shortened his leap. The growl of frustration he made when she dragged the two of them to the side was enough to scare the piss out of her. She was sure that he was losing his humanity, that the animal was taking over. She wouldn't be able to keep this up long.

When he launched himself at them this time, she didn't move. She grabbed the chair leg from Gin, pushed her friend to the floor and swung for all she was worth. The weapon hit his ribs. She could hear the crack of bone. The thrill of victory was short lived when his claws caught her arm. They didn't take the limb off, but they shredded her shirt and the skin beneath it. He'd held back on the strike and she wondered if he was trying to infect her or if he was just trying to take her apart a piece at time.

With all the grace of a true leopard, he landed on all fours facing them. His eyes glowed with rage and he was growling low in his throat. No more playing. Not this time. This time, he would go for a killing blow. She watched as he prepared himself for the strike, watched his eyes track her every movement while his nose scented out the taste of her fear and desperation. The muscles hidden beneath the shiny fur of his coat bunched in readiness. "I love you, Gin. You're the best friend I've ever had," she whispered and brought her bat up once more.

"Ivan!"

The voice was full of authority, low and husky. The entire room froze, Gin and Jo included. Slowly, a tall and elegant figure walked past them, clad in a flowing robe of shining gold. The Master positioned herself between the women and the beast. He growled, but he didn't move. Jo's hands tightened on the wooden leg. "Enough. I will not allow you to damage them any more than you already have. If you do not halt this at once, I will show you just how cruel I can be."

The catman growled, but he rose up until he stood and then stalked over to his friends. When she was satisfied that he was no longer a threat, the Master turned to look at the two women as they huddled against one another. "Tch. My dear. You are bleeding. Put down the weapon and allow me to tend the wound. It would not do for you to take ill."

"No. It wouldn't. You can't have me sick. I won't be able to work the floor then. Will I?" Jo asked. There was nothing in her voice, not an ounce of emotion. She stared at the vampire before her. "Can't have me miss a day or two because then you'd be low on cattle. Wouldn't you?"

"You are trying my patience, girl. Put the weapon down before I make you do so," the vampire retorted, her voice dropping to a low hiss.

"I'll put it down. I'll put it down in your chest, bitch. Don't touch me."

"Jo, don't antagonize her," Gin whispered.

"I'm not antagonizing. I'm making a promise."

"You should listen to your friend, girl. I am not known for my gentle nature. Do not upset me," the Master warned softly. Jo's grip on the wooden leg tightened in response. The vampire's lips tightened, as well. "It would be wise if you did not forget that it is because of me that you still live. I am your master as much as I am Ivan's master."

"You don't own us," Jo returned, giving the queen of the dead a grim smile. "We belong to Remy. You know this."

"But Remy is mine, girl. What belongs to him belongs to me." The Master sounded far too pleased by this.

"Go fuck yourself. I am not yours."

The vampire moved, so fast she couldn't track it, until it stood in front of her. Jo barely had a chance to raise the chair leg before the Master was gone. Her perfect lips were turned up in a predatory smile and real emotion lit her eyes. Gin reached out to lay her hand on one of Jo's arms. "Put it down. You can't beat her."

"I'm going to give it one hell of a try," Jo promised

"You cannot possibly think to defeat me with that tiny piece of wood, girl. I am older than you can imagine and stronger than anyone in this place. Remy cannot help you, child. He still sleeps and will continue to do so for some time. Do not be foolish. Relinquish the weapon to me."

"The only way I'm going to let go of this thing is if its because its sticking out of your chest," Jo told her almost pleasantly. "The minute I put this down, my life is over. I'd rather go out fighting."

"If that is your wish," the Master sighed. It sounded almost like she was sorry to see things come to this. But the smile on her face and the blood lust in her eyes made a mockery of the sorrow. She lifted a hand and waved it lazily. "Ivan. You may fetch your toy. The rest of you will not interfere. As for you, child. You are mine."

"Come and get some, bitch," Jo smiled. She glanced at Gin one last time. "You're the best thing in my life, Gin. You and Remy. I love you both."

Gin was pale but composed. She offered a faint twist of her lips. "I love you, too."

The room exploded in a flurry of emotion.

~*~*~*~*~

His eyes snapped open in the darkness and he laid there, staring. What had woken him? He could feel that the sun hadn't set yet. He usually didn't wake this early. Not that it hadn't happened before, but he was sure that there was some reason for his waking like this. There was a sense of something that brushed against his mind, crept across his skin like a phantom cat, stroking and rubbing in order to gain his attention.

He didn't want to face the day anymore. He'd thought, with the girls in his life, that things would be better. But it was just as bad as it had been. The Master used them as she pleased, no regard for the fragile state of their minds. No regard for the suffering she put them through each and every time they took the floor. He'd touched them enough, slid into their heads enough, that he could feel them even when they were lost in the center of hundreds of bodies. They hated what they did, hated what they'd become. And he could do nothing for them to help. Helping them lose themselves in sensation would only work for so long.

Absently, he let his mind seek them out. It was still the preferred method. He could listen for their heartbeats, but he cherished the ability to touch them on a level that few could. Not even the Master and her brood of psychotic children could touch people the way he could. He frowned when he couldn't sense them nearby. Usually, they were waiting in the other room for him when he rose. There was nothing there.

But there was something...

Climbing to his feet, Remy left his darkened room to find himself something to wear. He settled for the usual, jeans and a t-shirt. The denim of his jeans was worn, washed so many times that the blue was nearly gone. Now, it was a faded white in most places, a hole in one knee that he didn't mind all that much. It was such a human thing. The shirt was green, vivid and bright. Something sure to bother the Master. He took a moment or two to slip into socks and a pair of worn shoes, then left the room to seek out the girls.

He'd barely taken two steps from the door when he heard the sounds of snarls and soft cries. And fear assaulted him. It tickled his nose and wiggled through his brain. Malice followed close behind, cold and empty. And there was the cold, flat sensation of Death on the air. It waited, silent and hungering, to claim its prize. His heart lurched in his chest. Gin and Jo. Ivan. The Master.

What the hell was going on?

Speed came naturally as he hurried along the halls, following the thick trail of emotion to his destination. The closer he got, the harder it became to push it away. The fear threatened to overwhelm him, threatened to clog his throat and nose and drag him down into its chilly embrace. He had to struggle to keep it from taking control. There were sounds of a fight, hissing and chanting and painful sobbing breaths.

The communal room was a disaster area. Pillows were shredded and torn apart. Some of the curtains had been pulled from the wall and hung in tatters from the ceiling. Several of the candle stands had been knocked over and candles were spread across the floor. He gave the mess a quick, dispassionate look before his eyes sought the two people he had sworn to protect.

Gin was thrashing with Ivan. The man was in his half and half form, a feral smile on his face that was far more leopard than human. He'd worked most of her clothes off and fresh scratches marred her skin. Several of them were bleeding heavily. She looked tired, but she was kicking at him as he tried dragging her closer by an ankle. He was obviously toying with her, his strength held for the moment in careful check. Her free foot moved constantly, landing blows that had him grunting. But her efforts were nothing that would convince him to let her go. His intent was obvious, his erection jutting from his groin proudly.

Jo was presently being held against a wall by the Master. She struggled to free her hands, one of which was holding a heavy piece of wood. There was blood staining it, one end broken into a jagged point. The Master was laughing as she pressed closer and closer to the girl she held. "Silly mortal. Foolish girl. Did you think you could defeat me? With a worthless stick? Better than you have tried and failed over the years. I do hope you are prepared for the end. I intend to drain you dry. I also hope you taste good."

It happened all at once. Gin screamed, drawing his attention from Jo long enough to see that Ivan had penetrated her, his mouth locked over her shoulder as his hips pumped wildly. Her fists were slamming against his shoulders and ribs, trying to dislodge him. He was growling, eyes locked on her face as he scented her fear and relished her pain. She was sobbing softly even as she tried to hurt him in return.

At the same time, the Master struck, sinking her fangs into Jo's neck. Remy could feel the pain from where he stood. It nearly bowled him off his feet. As she drank, the Master loosened her hold on the woman she held pressed to the wall. It was all Jo needed. Faster than he felt was humanly possible, Jo's arm came down and she slammed the pointed end of the wooden weapon into the Master's back. The female vampire reared back, screaming in agony as her hands flailed for the makeshift stake. When she failed to grasp it, she reached out and backhanded Jo.

Remy watched helplessly as the girl literally flew across the room and hit the wall hard. Her body dropped to the floor and lay sprawled like a ragdoll. Anger flared inside of him, so hot it could burn if he were able to set it free. Preternatural speed saw him across the floor in the blink of an eye. Gin had driven her fingers into Ivan's eyes, forcing him to pull back out of her reach. There was a raw, bloody wound on her shoulder that made him think that the man had been mauling her. Incredible strength allowed him to pull the man away, almost wrenching him off of Gin's body. He heard something inside of the beast snap when he hit the far wall where Remy had tossed him.

Gin was staring up at him, eyes almost glassy with shock. There were more bites he hadn't been able to see, pools of blood spilling across the floor. He scooped her up carefully before hurrying to Jo's side. She lay motionless on the floor, her neck bloody and bruised. She was pale and her heartbeat was slow, almost stuttering in her chest. He set Gin beside her before reaching out to lay his hand against her cheek. He said nothing. There was nothing to say. She was going to die if he didn't do something.

The anger swelled up until it flooded every last inch of his body. He felt power swirling around him. Around them. Gin was staring at him with wide eyes, as if she didn't quite understand what was happening. He really didn't, either. But the power grew, crested and spilled out of him. He had no clue what he was doing with all that power, what it was meant for. The only thought in his head had been to do something to heal the injuries. And the power had come to his call. He felt more than saw it sink into both women at the same time. He wasn't sure what it meant. He only knew that he'd helped.

Now all he needed to do was get them out of there before the Master killed them all.

~*~*~*~*~

They were late. She could feel the sun sinking lower and lower to the ground. The vamps would be awake soon. Damn it, if they hadn't gotten lost in the sewers, they'd have been here much earlier. Things would have been simpler. Easier. But there'd been so many tunnels and caverns branching off of the main path they'd been following that it hadn't been hard to get lost. If not for the fact that Claudia and Bobby Lee had been with, she was sure they'd still be lost somewhere down in the mire.

Edward's plan had been uncomplicated. He'd gotten enough information on the church grounds and the sewer system beneath it that he'd found an easy way in and out. The idea had been to slip in through the old tunnels, which would bring them up into an older part of the grounds that he'd sworn wasn't in use. Based on the architectural plans on file, the area they would come out into would take them right into the heart of the area. A few discrete inquiries made by the rats had gotten them a good deal of information as to just where on the grounds the vampires made their lair. The only one who hadn't come with them was Nathaniel. But he hadn't been left without his own duties. She'd sent him to Ororo Munroe's house to procure someplace safe for the girls to stay the night.

The uncharted tunnels had been filled with the stench of death and, a few times, they'd found piles of bodies and bones. It was more than enough to let Anita know that the vampires had been killing people for far too long. The evidence against New Orleans' Master of the City and her kiss was rapidly growing by leaps and bounds. There'd been several occasions where she'd wished she'd brought a camera with her. It would have to be enough to mark the locations and then send the authorities in during the day.

After an indeterminate time, they finally came out of the sewer tunnels into a stone room that felt cold as the grave. There was a soft click next to her and the bright beam of a flashlight cut the darkness. Edward swung the light around. Rats scattered and hid, leaving the bodies they'd been chewing on as a silent testament to the vampires' cruelty and depravity. "You always find me the nicest people to play with, Anita," Edward murmured. There was a kind of grim joy in his voice that told her he'd kill anything that got in his way. It should have been frightening, but it wasn't. It was oddly comforting to know that there was still something of the man he'd once been in there somewhere.

"Its soon dark. Let's go. I'd rather not face the entire kiss if I can avoid it." Anita took a pair of steps, then came to a halt. "Shit. We have to hurry."

"What is it?" Micah asked softly. He reached out and laid a hand against her arm. It helped center her and she flashed him a look before starting forward again.

"Someone is awake. I can feel them. This way." She let the call of death and power that wound through it lead her out of the large room and into a dimly lit hallway. The click of Edward's flashlight told her he'd turned it off and stashed it away. She drew the Browning and flicked the safety off, then pointed it at the floor. She had no doubts that Edward and the weres with weapons would do the same. The weight of her gun in her hand made her feel a little more at ease, but the tension didn't completely leave her.

The long stone hallway was eerily silent as she led her small group forward. Edward was behind her and she knew that Ares and Bobby Lee brought up the rear. There was a swirl of energy from the weres behind her that teased her senses, left her slightly on edge. The jumpiness was a good thing. It kept her focused and sharp, kept her from relaxing too much. There was a general feel of evil that permeated the walls and the air. Bad things had been happening in this place for a very long time.

The light grew as they closed on the source of the energy she'd been following. The sounds of some kind of struggle reached their ears. Almost immediately, the energy around the weres intensified and strengthened. Anita came to a stop and turned to look at each of them. The message was plain to see on her face so that she didn't need to speak. Get in, get the girls and get the hell out before the entire kiss woke up and swarmed them. Each of the lycanthropes nodded grimly. Edward smiled. It was enough. They started forward again.

The room they found their way into was a disaster area. Lush red draperies had been torn from the wall and lay pooled on the floor like spilt blood. Pillows were thrown every where, shredded and leaking piles of white stuffing. There was snarling, sobbing, panting, gasping. And power. So much power.

Several weres stood off to one side, arms dangling loosely at their sides, eyes staring hungrily at the tableau before them. A large man, shifted into his half and half form, was playing with one of the human girls. There was a mix of lust and hunger shining in his eyes as he slowly pulled her closer to him with one foot. A petite female vampire had the other human girl pressed against the wall. She was speaking, though the words were too low for her to hear. The growl from Micah let her know that, whatever the woman said, it wasn't pleasant. This girl held a broken piece of wood that was already covered in blood.

In the midst of the carnage stood a tall man with longish brown hair and the strangest eyes she'd ever seen. He was trying to take it all in at once, obviously uncertain where he was supposed to help first. The most amazing thing about him was the sheer volume of power that rolled off of him. It was almost enough to choke her with and, for a moment, Anita thought he was the Master of the City. Then she remembered that the Master was a woman.

A pain-laced scream rent the air. She saw Edward take aim out of the corner of her eye, though she wasn't sure where he was aiming. It didn't matter, though. In only moments, everything went to hell in a handbasket.

The female vampire, the Master, struck and buried her fangs in the neck of the girl she held. The leopard had finally managed to drag the other girl under him and was buried completely inside of her. The next moment, there was another scream and Anita found the female vamp scrambling to grab the length of wood that had been buried in her back. A sharp slap of the vampire's hand sent her victim flying across the room where she slammed into one of the walls. The girl's limp body slid to the floor, where it lay unmoving.

The next second saw the strange man flow into motion. Power shimmered around him as he stopped and jerked the beast off the other girl. The heavily muscled, furred body hit the wall hard enough that something snapped before it tumbled to the ground. The man scooped up the woman and carried her over to the other side of the room, where the other girl still lay motionless. After setting down the woman he carried, he leaned over and touched the other girl. There was such an intense look of pain on his face, a look that said the girl was dying and he didn't want to lose her.

Again, there was that stifling swell of power that she associated with the very old vampires just a second before it rolled out toward the pair of women by his side. Anita's eyes flew wide. She knew what she was feeling. Just what the hell was going on here?

The sound of a gun going off drew her away from the trio on the floor in time to see Edward bring down the creature that had been raping the one woman. The lycanthropes, both the ones that had come with her and the ones that lived here, were engaged in physical fights. That left the Master. She sensed more than saw that the Master hadn't moved yet. In fact, she sensed another vampire in the room with her. Turning, she saw that a tall man with moonlight hair was standing by the woman, his hands working the wood from her back.

When the blood stained weapon was dropped to the floor with an empty clatter, the focus of the entire room shifted to Anita and the Master. She stared at the two vampires. They were old, but not so old as Jean Claude or Asher. And she wasn't anywhere near as strong as Jean Claude was. In fact, it almost felt as if the vampire behind her was stronger than the Master. She shoved that aside for a moment to pay attention to the female vamp. It was obvious she was sizing them up.

The Master wasn't much taller than Anita, with a porcelain face and dainty features. She looked like a China doll, with her petite frame and lush mane of golden hair. Sweetly formed lips were pursed as she considered the people who'd invaded her territory. The gold robe she wore hid much of her figure, but the swell of her breasts beneath the material suggested she was curvy. Hazel eyes flashed as she studied her guests.

The man at her side was taller, almost six feet. There was nothing on his face to give away his thoughts or feelings, nothing to tell her if she should be ready for an attack or not. Not that she was going to put her gun away amidst the lot of them. She wasn't that stupid. Dark eyes regarded her blankly but his arm stayed firmly wrapped around the Master's shoulders. Obviously her second.

Jean Claude had told her what he knew of the Master of New Orleans. Belladonna was one of Belle Morte's children, which was plain to see in the woman's unearthly beauty. Sadly, she was as twisted and cruel as her maker had been. She'd terrorized her way across Europe, torturing humans and vampires alike to appease her bloody tastes, until the Council had stepped in and banished her to the American colonies. That had been centuries ago. It looked as if she hadn't given up her evil ways.

Jean Claude had known her, of course, and hadn't liked her a bit. In fact, he'd had very little good to say about her. Based on what he'd told her, she was surprised to find that the girls were still alive and in one piece. She'd honestly expected to come find them dead or dying. Naturally, she'd taken her concerns to the proper authorities, but without solid proof that Belladonna had been behind all of the deaths, the judge wouldn't issue a warrant. She'd been hoping that testimony from several different sources would be enough to gain her an order of execution.

Now, she could use the testimony of the girls. It would help that they'd been beaten and battered to within an inch of their lives. Assuming, of course, that they lived through this mess. Hell, assuming that they all lived through this mess.

The feel of Belladonna drawing her power around herself pushed all thoughts aside and Anita stood waiting, the gun loose and ready in her hands. The Master smiled, the expression almost achingly sweet.

"Welcome to New Orleans, Executioner."

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