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: lots of conversation here and a few insights into what the hell was really going on.

The House of the Rising Sun: The Index


"I'm fine. I don't need anyone poking at me," Jo insisted, glaring up at Gin, Ororo and the old man who was trying to shine a bright light in her eyes. She jerked her head away and regretted it immediately. The dull ache that had been there since she'd woken a few hours ago came roaring to life with a vengeance.

"You were unconscious for a long time," Gin remarked. She was wrapped up in one of Ro's robes, her eyes still filled with worry. "Most of the night. Let him make sure you didn't suffer any ill effects from your meeting with the stone wall."

"I'm fine," she snapped, crossing her arms over her chest. The doctor, who'd told them to call him Doc, just smiled at her patiently. His hair was a shock of white that haloed his head like a mushroom cloud and his face was etched with more lines than a road map. Despite his aged appearance, the man moved with the same spry energy of a teenager. He'd already looked Gin over and proclaimed her fit, despite the numerous bite and scratch marks that marred her skin. She hadn't left Jo's side since she'd first opened her eyes that morning.

"You're not fine," Gin insisted quietly. Jo heard as much as felt the fear that surrounded her friend. She was ready to argue further, but Gin held up her hand to halt her words. "You almost died. You could have died. If Remy hadn't done... whatever it was he did, you would have died. Let the doctor look you over. Please."

Jo flicked her gaze to Ororo, who was watching the scene play out with a faint smirk on her face. Before she could say anything, the older woman lifted a hand in the same gesture Gin had used and stopped her. "Ginette is correct. You looked terrible when you arrived here last night. Allow Doc to do what he needs to do. If not, I will find a way to force your compliance."

"Ro," she protested, but the woman shook her head.

"No. You will not sway me in this. We are merely concerned for your well being. If you will not sit and remain silent so that he may examine you, I will use whatever means necessary to keep you quiet and still," Ororo said, her voice gentle despite the steel in her tone.

Jo glared at the lot of them. "It isn't like I haven't been beaten up before."

"That was Todd. Not a psychotic vampire with an agenda. She knocked you across the lair into a stone wall," Gin snapped, her words laced more with fear than anger. "After she tried to bleed you dry. She left a nasty bite mark on your throat."

"And I left a nasty puncture wound in her back. We're even on that score," Jo retorted. "I'm fine. I want something to drink. Got any rum, Ro?"

Ororo blinked at her, as if that were the last thing she'd expected to hear come from the woman's mouth. Doc actually chuckled. "Its a little early to have something that hard, don't you think?"

Jo shrugged and continued to glare at him. "Its after five in the afternoon somewhere on the planet. Happy hour never ends."

"If Remy were awake..." Gin began but Jo pinned her with a stare.

"But he isn't. And you aren't going to lay that one on me," she replied steadily. "I'm fucking fine. Quit poking at me."

The old man heaved a sigh and leaned away, dropping the flashlight into his lap for the time being. She watched him as he studied her, gray eyes sharp and probing. Much sharper than she thought the eyes of a man who was supposed to be his age should be. After a few moments, he glanced at Ororo and Gin and motioned toward the door with one hand. "Ladies, if I might have a few moments alone with my patient."

Gin looked at Jo for a few seconds before turning to Ororo. The older woman shrugged her shoulders, then nodded and turned for the door. Gin reached out and took Jo's hand, squeezing it gently before she followed Ororo out of the room. He waited until the door had closed behind them, then turned a questioning gaze back to her. "I'm fine," she insisted.

"Oh, I believe you. But you really should let me check you over. It isn't going to hurt. I promise you," he said gently.

"I don't care. I don't want to be poked and prodded and all that shit. I've got a slight headache and I feel sleepy. That's all. Both symptoms can be explained by the blood loss and slamming into a wall at velocity," Jo replied softly.

"Young lady, I know you've been through something horrible. I know its likely the worst thing you've ever had happen to you. Far worse than any nightmare. And I know that those monsters did things to you that you wish you could forget. But you can't ignore that it happened. That won't make it go away. And it won't let me know if there's something wrong with you," he said, voice laden with understanding and sincerity. She even heard concern in the mix. All she could do was stare at him, jaw set to keep her from wanting to lean into him and cry on his shoulder.

Doc reminded her of her grandfather. The urge to give in to his persuasive speech was so strong. Before, she hadn't dared cry in front of anyone but Gin. Not while they were still held captive by the vampires. She couldn't cry in front of Remy because she'd felt guilt on him a time or two when he thought she and Gin had drifted off to sleep. She knew he'd felt responsible for their fates, that he'd blamed himself for what had happened to them. Now, it took every last ounce of her strength not to break down and cry on this stranger's shoulders.

"They didn't abuse me like they did Gin." Jo had to force the words out, her teeth clenched so tightly that her jaw ached.

"There are different kinds of abuse, child. Different levels. I think you both suffered a great deal. Maybe she bears more marks of physical trauma, but that doesn't mean you didn't suffer as much as she did." He reached out to lay one of his wrinkled, gnarled old hands over hers. Warmth spread through her at the touch, slipping easily along her nerves until it spilled over every last inch of her.

There was too much compassion in his touch. Too much sympathy and understanding in his eyes. Too much genuine concern in his words. She couldn't hold it in. Not any longer. One tear trickled down her cheek, to be followed by a second shortly after the first. She hiccupped out a soft sob before choking the rest back down. Not here. Not now. Not in front of a stranger. She'd let it all go later. When the bitch and her sick minions were dead at her feet.

With great effort of will, Jo pulled herself back together. She dashed the tears from her cheeks and gave him a look. "What do I need to do?"

"Allow me to examine all of the wounds inflicted by the vampire and her animals," he said, offering her a slight smile. "It will require that you disrobe so that I can..."

"Yeah, yeah, Doc. If you wanted to see me naked, all you had to do was ask," Jo shot at him, earning a smile from the man.

"Young lady, I'm much too old for such temptations. But I do appreciate the offer. Now, do you think you can manage to stand for me?"

"Does a bear shit in the woods?"

~*~

Jo was sliding back into the night shirt that someone had put on her when there was a brisk knock at the door. The panel swung open long before anyone even thought about bidding whoever it was entrance and Jo found herself staring at a short, dark-headed woman with a frown on her face. The woman's dark gaze flicked back and forth between Doc and Jo. "I understand you're some kind of physician?" she asked.

"I'm a retired country doctor. I'm also a good friend of Ororo's. She called me last night," Doc replied. Jo took a step toward the door, hoping that the stranger would keep him occupied so she could go find something to eat. "Child, I recommend you climb back into bed and rest further or I'll let Ororo use her considerable skills on you to achieve the same results."

"Nuts," Jo muttered and turned to make her way over to the bed. Ororo soon entered, bearing a tray. Gin was trailing along with her. The smell of fresh bacon and sausage wafted on the air and made Jo's stomach rumble. She tried to remember when she'd last eaten and found she couldn't.

"How is she?" the stranger asked as Jo climbed back into the bed. She just loved it when people talked about her like she wasn't there. She was about to open her mouth, but Gin climbed in next to her and nudged her with an elbow. After sending her friend a scowl, she allowed Ro to settle the tray on her lap. It held two plates of breakfast and hunger took precedence over reminding people that she was in the room.

"Miss Jo is fine," Doc told her. He was busy returning items to his old fashioned black doctor's bag. "She suffered a mild concussion that is already on the mend. I doubt she's suffering any internal bleeding. Something would have gone wrong before now. There are bruises and cuts in varying stages of healing. Most of the wounds, with exception of the bite mark, are superficial."

"I don't suppose you did an in depth exam?" The woman's question brought a scowl to Jo's face. What surprised her was the look it brought to Doc's face.

"I didn't feel the need."

"Its information that should go into the police report."

"I don't know if you noticed, but the two of them have been traumatized," Doc said evenly, his voice lacking any distinct emotion. "Physically and emotionally. I sincerely doubt, given all of the violence they suffered, that they'd make up something as heinous as rape. If you'd wanted that kind of examination done, you should have taken them to a hospital and had a rape kit performed on them both."

Jo watched the woman clench her jaw in anger. Doc reached out and laid a hand on the woman's shoulder, a soft look on his face. "Miss Blake, I understand you have a job to do. But you were the one who chose not to take them to a hospital. I know you have your reasons for such actions. But anything I might have collected would likely be dismissed. Especially so long after the assault. Given the nature of the injuries, I don't think you'll have a difficult time making the police believe that they were raped."

"I had hoped..." she shook her head.

"Is that information really necessary? Don't you have enough as it is to garner a warrant of execution against the vampire or vampires responsible for these crimes?" he asked her softly. Jo glanced at Gin, curious now as to what was going on. The other woman gave her a shake of her head, then flicked her gaze at the woman. Jo nodded and went back to her breakfast. She carefully kept one ear on the conversation as she forked up a small pile of hash browns and brought them to her mouth.

"I've got to move them out of the city. I believe their lives are in danger here. But before I can do that, they need to give statements to the police. Any evidence that can be offered that corroborates their statements will be good." The woman shook her head once, then glanced to the bed where Gin and Jo sat. "Will they be up to giving statements to the police?"

"I think that they can manage it. But I suggest that Jocelyn gets as much rest as possible. That concussion is going to leave her tired out easily for a few days," Doc warned, glancing back at his patients. Jo rolled her eyes.

"You're worse than my mother, Doc. I'll be okay. You said so yourself. You wouldn't lie to your patients, would you?" she tossed him a grin. He returned it with his own smile.

"Of course I would if I thought it would get them to do what I wanted them to," he winked. She managed a chuckle before scooping up some fluffy scrambled eggs. "But I think it would be good if you took it easy for a few more days. You're going to be a little off after cracking your skull against a stone wall the way you did."

"Chances are good I cracked the wall with my thick skull," Jo snorted. It brought laughter from Gin and Ororo.

"You just might be right about that," Gin nodded.

~*~

"So what the hell was all that about?" Jo asked almost as soon as Ororo and Doc left, the strange woman following them out of the room. The breakfast Ro had made for them was gone and the taller woman had taken their plates with when she'd left. Jo was reclining against a pile of pillows, tucked under the covers, while Gin sat beside her.

"That woman is Anita Blake," Gin told her.

Jo just stared.

"You know. Anita Blake. Licensed vampire killer and human servant to the Master of the City of St. Louis," Gin explained.

"And?" Gin snorted at her. Jo shot her a look while she pondered getting up to find something to drink. Breakfast had been good. But she needed something to wash it down with. She'd pretty much inhaled it. Whoever the bitch had had either cooking or bringing in food for the non-blood suckers wasn't half as good as Ro was. If she were being honest, she wanted to see if there was anything left in the kitchen. She was still kind of hungry.

"Don't tell me you don't know who I'm talking about?" Gin demanded, sounding disgusted.

"Of course I know who the fuck Anita Blake is. She's on the television like every damned night," Jo commented before throwing the covers back. "I'm not that stupid, you know. If I wasn't adverse to most vampires at the moment, and she wasn't in the picture, I might be tempted to throw myself on her master."

Gin rolled her eyes and smiled. "You must be alright if you're thinking about sex."

"I'm always thinking about sex," Jo replied and slid from the bed. She headed toward the dresser that rested against one wall, idly pulling the drawer to look for clothes. It was empty, which led her to believe that she was wearing one of Ro's night shirts. Sighing, she checked the next drawer. And the next. "I've thought about nothing but sex since Terry Pince showed us that porn when we were ten. You know that."

"God, that thing was awful," Gin laughed, a short sound that died all too quickly. She was nervous. Jo could sense it, taste it on the air like it was food. Jo nodded, then turned back and looked at her.

"What aren't you telling me?" she asked softly. Her tone was unexpected and Gin's cheeks colored. She moved back to the bed and sat down, then took one of Gin's hands in her own. "Something happened while I was out. What is it?"

"We have to leave New Orleans," Gin replied, her voice soft and apologetic. Jo stared at her for a few moments before nodding her head.

"You're sure you're infected?"

"Yeah. But that isn't the only reason. Remy can't stay here. We can't stay here," Gin told her and looked away. Jo muttered a curse under her breath and got up to pace back and forth across the floor beside the bed.

"The bitch," she said, though she needn't have. They both knew why they couldn't stay in New Orleans. After a few moments of treading the same path across the gleaming wooden floor, she stopped and looked up at Gin. "Where are we supposed to go?"

"We're going to St. Louis."

"Why St. Louis?" That was a suspicious turn of events.

"There's a pard there for me. And Remy needs to learn how to control his powers. I think the master there can help him." There was more to it than that. Jo could feel it. But Gin was holding it back. For some reason, she didn't want to tell her what the rest of the reason was. Sighing, Jo only nodded and strolled to the window. It was bright out, the sun shining down in golden ribbons to give the street below the feeling of something clean and new. She knew better.

She frowned to see a small group of people gathered on the street across from Ro's building. There was something about them, but she couldn't be sure what it was. She was fairly certain she'd never seen them before, but that really didn't mean anything. She'd seen so many people at the club that it hadn't been funny. Still, it felt like there some something familiar about them. She just couldn't put her finger on it.

When one of the heads tipped back to look up at the window, Jo started and almost stepped back. She didn't know the face. The man was wearing sunglasses, so she couldn't see his eyes, but she was sure he was looking right at her. Then another head tipped back and she found herself looking down into a familiar face. "Hey. That's the guy from the club the other night. The one that dickhead came out and pulled us away from."

Gin joined her at the window and looked down, then nodded. "His name is Nathaniel. He came with Anita. He and Micah, the guy I was dancing with, scoped the club out for her and reported back whatever it was she needed to know."

Jo frowned and continued to stare at them. Something about the guy with the sunglasses bothered her, but she couldn't put her finger on it. "So those people are here with her?"

"Yes. Chances are good they're keeping an eye on the place. Until we're gone, Ro's going to be in danger. In fact, if they find out that she helped us," Gin's voice trailed off on that. Jo shivered and wondered just what kind of trouble they'd inadvertently brought to the woman's door. If anything happened to Ro because of her foolish notions of love, she'd never forgive herself.

"Well, then. I guess we have to hope that Ro's got a lot of witch mojo that she can use to bust their asses if they show up." The group across the street broke apart. The guy she'd danced with, Nathaniel, turned and walked up the street like he was going to hit the shops on the other end of the block. A couple of the people went the other direction and the one with the sunglasses took a seat at a sidewalk table. The business across the street was a coffee house and the man had a cup at his elbow. He scooped up a paper and unfolded it, but she could still feel his eyes on her.

She frowned down at him, then stepped back from the window and returned to the bed. Any lingering hunger or thirst was gone now. After that, she was just plain creeped out. She plopped down on the mattress and frowned. Gin joined her, giving her the impression that the woman was afraid to leave, that she thought something horrible would happen if she didn't keep an eye on her. "You don't have to babysit me," she said quietly.

"I'm not," Gin shrugged and shifted uncomfortably. "I just... Last night is mostly a blur for me. What I remember most is the fear. I really thought you were going to die. I guess I'm still afraid that something will happen if I'm not here to keep an eye on you."

"You heard Doc. I'm good as gold. Go bug Ro or Anita or someone. Let me have some peace and quiet."

"Sneaking out of here would be a really bad idea," Gin grinned at her. "Because if you managed to get past everyone up here, you'd have to contend with all those people downstairs. And something tells me you won't get past all of them."

"I wasn't going to sneak out. You have so little faith in me," Jo retorted, making sure she sounded good and indignant. She slid off the bed so she could cock a hip and cross her arms over her chest. "I want a shower. I'd like to go to the bathroom. And I'd like to be able to do those things without you watching me to make sure I don't fall off the toilet and crack my skull on the tub or anything."

Gin grinned at her for a couple of seconds, then finally nodded and headed for the door. "There's a bathroom at the end of the hall. Ro laid in a new stash of towels just this morning. Try not to fall and hurt yourself or I'll send one of the men in to help you."

Jo cracked a smile. "If that happens, make sure he brings his rubbers. You know it'll be wet in there." Gin's laughter followed her all the way to the bathroom.

~*~*~*~*~

The police station was loud and cluttered, all manner of people sitting in the seats, before desks and behind them. Anita was annoyed with them. Jo'd had her shower, then had promptly dropped off for a nap. She'd wanted to wake her up, but Doc had still been there and hadn't allowed it. Silently, Gin had agreed with him. No matter what Remy had done to them, Jo still wasn't fully recovered. Her skin was an almost sickly pale and even now, after the nap, she looked tired. She'd been leaning on Gin's shoulder in the car, but inside the building, she was stubbornly standing on her own two feet.

They were both in new clothes, a gift from Ororo. She'd sent a couple of Anita's people out to pick something comfortable and loose up for the both of them. Jo was in a plain button down shirt in light blue and a pair of leggings in black. Gin sported a green shirt and stretch jeans. Under the shirts were tank tops, in case the police wanted to take pictures and document things. The clothes they'd been wearing when rescued had been dropped into paper bags and sealed. Anita had brought them with for evidence.

The desk sergeant had called some detective for them, then told them to wait until he came to get them. A look at the seats had prompted Gin to pull Jo close and keep her away from them. One of the men sitting in them was some kind of lycanthrope and she didn't want to get too close. Just in case. Not that she thought anything would happen while they were surrounded by cops and Anita's friends.

Micah was with them, standing somewhere between Anita and herself and Jo. The blonde that she'd seen the night before, the one who'd scared her silly for no reason, was between the general public and herself and Jo. They were guarding them without looking like it, which Gin found she was most comfortable with. Even though Anita had told her they'd gotten away clean last night, she wouldn't put it past any of the bitch's minions to come looking for them during the day.

Eventually, a man approached them with his hand out toward Anita. "Ms. Blake. Its good to see you again." His eyes flicked to where Gin and Jo stood, looking them over with a critical, seasoned cop eye. "Why don't we go back to my office?"

"Of course," Anita nodded and fell into step behind him. Micah followed her. The blonde didn't move, letting Gin know that he would wait for them. She grabbed hold of Jo's arm and tugged her forward. She could feel more than hear the man pace after them. They wound their way through the halls into a cluttered office. Once all five of them had stepped in behind the detective, he pushed the door closed and moved to take his seat behind the desk.

The cop was older, had obviously been doing his job a long time. His hair was kept short and was liberally peppered with gray. His face was lined with all of his years as a homicide detective, all of his triumphs and failures laid out like a road map in the creases and wrinkles etched into his skin. There were bags under his eyes, eyes that held more sadness than joy. He'd seen a lot and each case that went unsolved rested heavily on his shoulders. The fact that he cared put Gin at ease. He stared at her and Jo for a moment, then motioned with one hand toward the chairs before his desk. There were only two and Anita had already taken one.

Gin turned to look at Jo, who was leaning up against the wall behind her. "Why don't you take the seat?" she offered, motioning to the empty chair.

Jo shook her head. Gin could tell that she was tense and afraid. There was no way she'd admit it, but Gin knew she was worried that the cops would blame them for what had happened. Even though it was something minor, standing or sitting was something she could control. "Thanks, but I'd rather stand. I've spent most of the past twelve hours or more flat on my back."

Gin stared a little bit, then took the chair and faced the detective behind it. He was looking at the contents of a file on his desk. She watched as he shuffled papers and glossy prints. The silence was thick and heavy and, for a moment, she considered saying fuck it and getting the hell out of there. Finally, as if he'd come to a decision, the detective heaved a sigh and lifted a picture, then turned it and showed it to Gin.

She found herself staring at a grainy, somewhat dark photo of herself and Jo. It had been taken at the House of the Rising Sun and they were dancing together. It was obviously from a cell phone, which meant that people had told the man about them. She heard Jo shift behind her, then snort. "That is really a crappy shot."

"That's a really crappy shot of you and your friend at a club from which people have been reported missing. Care to explain that?" the man asked, his gaze directed at Jo over Gin's shoulder.

"We were dancing. Someone liked it. They took a picture."

"Will you be able to maintain that attitude when I tell you that people have reported their friends going missing at that club and that you and your partner here are the last two people to see them alive?"

"What am I supposed to do, Detective?" she asked softly. Gin had expected a flippant or sarcastic answer. There was none there. Instead, she heard contrition in Jo's voice, along with a sense of sorrow that went deep. She understood the feelings all too well. "Throw myself on my knees and beg your mercy and forgiveness? There isn't anything I can say that will excuse what you think I did. Nothing will make it better."

"What do I think you did?" he questioned, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest.

"You think I'm responsible for their deaths. That I should have done something to save them," she said quietly. Gin had been concerned about bringing her, knowing her temper. But she also knew her friend had a good head on her shoulders. She'd been damn near brilliant in school. She just forgot to use it more often than not. "You're willing to blame me for something that I had no control over."

"Are you so sure about that, Miss... ?" the detective trailed off. Gin was sure that he knew who they were, which of them was which. She waited to see what Jo would do.

"I might be young, Detective, but I'm hardly stupid. Headstrong and stubborn, yes. But I'm no fool. You think that I had a choice in what was happening? You think that I didn't hate myself every day for what was going on in that place? You think wrong." Jo stepped forward until she stood beside Gin's chair. "If I'd done anything, my body would have been one of the ones you found."

"We were kept as prisoners, Detective. If we didn't do what they told us to, they abused us. If one of us had tried to escape and alert the police," Gin reached out to put a hand on Jo's arm. "If that had happened, neither one of us would be here."

"Just how did you get involved with this..." he made a gesture with his hand as he searched for the right word. "How did you get mixed up with these people?"

They'd discussed this. Neither one of them thought it would be a good idea to mention Remy. The cops would want to talk to him and that was probably a bad idea. Still, he was the main reason they hadn't done anything. But before either of them could start, Anita spoke. "Detective Morris, the girls were held against their will and coerced because the Master of the City had one of their friends."

"Where is this friend, Ms. Blake?" Morris turned his attention to the other woman. Gin felt Jo move closer, even though they both had their attention on the woman who'd come with them.

"He's incapable of coming to talk to you, Detective," she replied.

"He's dead?"

"He's a vampire," she told him. Morris shifted his gaze back to Gin and Jo. Gin could see what was going round in his mind.

"He wasn't a vampire when we first met him," Gin sighed. It looked like they were going to have to explain everything. The detective settled back in his chair, his entire posture indicating that she should go on. "Jo and I came down here after high school graduation. Five years ago. We met him then. He offered to show us New Orleans and we took him up on it."

"Took him up on it?"

"He spent the week with us. Showed us around the city during the day and then showed us the most amazing nights," Jo said without apology. Morris nodded, as if things were going as he expected. "It was the best sex I've ever had in my life. Coming back to New Orleans was my idea. We each needed to find someplace where we could get lost. For our own reasons."

"And what were your reasons for coming back to New Orleans?" he asked.

"I feel like I belong here. I needed to get away from an abusive ex-boyfriend who didn't know when no meant no. And I wanted to come back and find... him."

"Him?" At the detective's question, Jo turned to look at Anita. She gave the silent question consideration, then nodded.

"Remy. Our friend. The guy we spent an entire week with."

"Remy?" Morris prompted.

Jo sighed and Gin felt the first stirrings of temper from the her friend. She frowned. This almost felt like an interrogation and they were supposed to be giving statements. "Remy LeBeau." The detective turned to his computer and started typing. Jo muttered a curse under her breath, then spun and marched back to the wall.

"Does Remy have a middle name?" Morris asked, almost absently.

"Etienne." The man clicked few more keys, then frowned. Jo's voice was smug when it came. "We probably know more about him than that computer does. There isn't anything you can say about him that will surprise us."

"My computer tells me you got yourselves mixed up with a thief." When Morris took his eyes off the computer screen, it was obvious he was disappointed to find that neither of them were surprised about his revelation. Flustered for a moment, he tapped a few more keys while it looked as if he collected his thoughts. "So you came here and went looking for him?" he finally asked.

"Yes."

"And when you found him?"

"He told us to run," Gin took up. The statement obviously confused Morris, so she explained. "Remy met the Master of the City after we left that first time. She decided she liked him and wanted him as hers. So she turned him. We kept going back to the House of the Rising Sun looking for him, because that's where we met him the first time. I guess our persistence caught her eye and she decided that, for whatever reason, she wanted us around."

"She wanted us there so she could control him," Jo spat. The detective gave them a blank look. "He wouldn't do what she wanted. So she thought she could bend him to her will if she took Gin and I captive and held us over his head."

"Why did she want to control him? Was he dangerous or something?"

"No, Detective Morris," Anita put in. Gin let her since she was the vampire expert. "Newly made vamps are dangerous, but not so dangerous as the older ones."

"Then why did she want to control him?"

"Remy has a kind of... charm to him," Gin began. "Men and women flock to him. The master wanted him to use that ability to draw people in. He wouldn't do it, even though she tried starving him. When the two of us went looking for him, and kept looking for him, she decided that taking the two of us captive would earn his cooperation. He knew this and told us to run. We ran."

"So what happened? How did you end up under her control?" The man was subtle, Gin had to give him that. Somehow, he'd figured out the best way to get the information he wanted was to put them on the defensive. He had a pen in his hand, paper ready for his notes.

"She sent one of her vampires and a couple of her leopards to our apartment."

At that, he began shuffling papers around until he found what he was looking for. It was obviously a report and he scanned it briefly. "A Miss Ororo Munroe called the Missing Persons division several weeks ago to report you'd been kidnapped. Detective Roger Phillips was the lead investigator. He was under the impression that the abusive ex-boyfriend was responsible. There's no mention of a vampire or any kind of lycanthropes in your apartment."

"They broke in when I was home. They took me captive and waited for Jo to come home. She didn't come in right away. She knew something was wrong. Darious told her she'd better come in or they'd hurt me."

"They'd shattered the door off its hinges and there was a smear of blood on the frame. I was going to call the cops, but Darious told me if I did, he'd break Gin's neck." Jo's voice sounded soft, as if she were remembering it as she spoke. There was the smallest thread of anger and hatred there, too.

"And what happened next?"

"I had a silver crucifix in my pocket. I shoved it into Darious' throat when I got close enough. There was a scuffle, which I lost, and they took us back to the bitch's lair." A scuffle. Gin had thought they were both dead, that Darious would kill them both as a message to Remy. It might have been preferable to what had awaited them at the master's lair. But she'd felt the change in him when he'd seen them that first night. He'd been glad to see them, lonely and lost in his new life.

"What happened at the lair?"

"Remy kept us as safe as he could. But she told us that..."

"She?"

"The master," Anita supplied. "Her name is Belladonna."

Morris nodded that he was ready for them to continue. Gin picked up the story. "Belladonna told us that we had to earn our keep. We were to go out and gather people for the vampires to feed off of or she'd do horrible things to Remy. If one of us tried to fight, the other one got hurt. She allowed the lycanthropes to use us however they wished. And Jo was never safe from Darious."

"The thing with the crucifix?" he asked.

"Silver is like poison or acid to vampires, Detective," Anita told him. "I saw the wound on his throat. Even after a few weeks, it looked new and raw. I think she ruined his voice permanently. That's why your Missing Persons detective found a lump of silver and not a crucifix. It melted from contact with him."

"So you had to gather people. How did you do that?"

"We danced," Gin told him. "First, we would pick people separately. Once we had them convinced that we wanted more than a dance, we'd take them back to one of the small rooms off to the side. And one of the vampires would come collect them. We were so successful and popular that the master told us to go for couples. So we danced together. And people stood around to watch. And wait. And hope we picked them."

"You didn't warn them? You just led them to their deaths like lambs to the slaughter?" There was disbelief in the man's voice.

"You know what?" Jo stepped forward again and tossed her shirt on the table, exposing the remaining bruises and the bite at her throat. "Fuck you. This is what happened when I fought back. I got bit and punched and beaten. I was lucky to leave that place alive." Gin reached up and laid her hand on Jo's arm. She was surprised it took this long.

"We were both raped," Gin explained, willing her friend to calm down. Morris wasn't paying attention to her. He was staring at the assortment of bruises that still colored the other woman's skin. "We were both beaten. We were both bit and scratched and clawed. And the more we fought, the harder the lycanthropes played with us."

She stopped and watched as Micah shifted from where he stood by Anita. He moved to Jo's side and reached for her shirt, speaking quietly in her ear as he pulled her away from the desk. Whatever he said to her must have worked, because she didn't feel as much anger and frustration coming from the woman. "Before you say anything about Remy helping us, Detective Morris, allow me to enlighten you on a few things. He's a new vampire and virtually helpless next to someone as old as his master. And he's only one person. How is he supposed to help us and fight not only the entire kiss, but the lycanthropes, too. If he'd tried, they'd have killed him. And us. You don't know what it was like, wondering if we'd survive from one day to the next. Wondering just what torment we were going to have to endure, just to get through the day."

"Why don't you tell me? In a written statement," he said softly and Gin could hear their pain and fear echoed in his voice. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on the desk, studying her quietly with eyes made dark with emotion. This was why he was still in homicide. Because he had to make a difference. It was plain to see on his face. Gin nodded before turning to look at Jo. She was once more leaning up against the wall, arms cross over her chest and head tipped forward so that her face was hidden.

"What do you need, Detective?" she asked softly.

~*~*~*~*~

Jo frowned at the young man sitting across the table from her. He'd introduced himself as Nathaniel and there was no need for him to mention that he was watching her for Anita. After they'd given statements and had pictures taken to document the abuse they'd suffered, Anita had gotten permission to go to the apartment and collect some things to take with them when they left. Detective Morris hadn't been happen when the woman had told him she was taking his two star witnesses out of the state, but he'd relented when Anita had explained to him in detail, in a hard-edged, no nonsense tone of voice, what could happen if Jo and Gin didn't get out of New Orleans and Louisiana. He'd been reluctant to agree and Jo was sure the woman was going to use her status to get what she wanted. But Morris had finally agreed and made a call to send a pair of uniforms over to the apartment.

It sucked that Gin got to go pack for them and Jo had been told she was going back to Ororo's to rest. She hated being treated like an invalid. Maybe she was a little tired, but she thought she should have the chance to pack her own things. Only two good things had come from being sent back to Ro's place. Nathaniel had cooked lunch for her and it was awesome and Anita's creepy friend Edward was no where to be seen. He'd come back with her, had actually driven her back, and Jo had been unnerved the entire ride. He was downstairs somewhere, making sure nothing happened to Ro or the shop or anything. Jo considered the food on her plate and frowned. "You don't like it?" Nathaniel asked. The uncertainty in his voice drew her attention.

"What? Oh, no. Its fine. Just..." she faltered and motioned around with one hand. He nodded and offered her a smile.

"You hate being stuck here."

"Yeah. I hate hiding behind someone else," she told him, flicking her gaze back down to the plate before her.

"You're not hiding behind anyone. Trust me. You can't handle the people who want to hurt you. You're lucky that you didn't get killed before Anita rescued you." There was something in his voice, a feel to him, that told her that he understood far better than he should. She shrugged and said nothing as she dove into a pile of crisp hash browns.

"This whole mess is pretty much because of me." She didn't look at him as she spoke. And she didn't know why she was telling him this. It just felt right. "I was the one who wanted to come to New Orleans and I was the one who wanted to find Remy. Maybe if I'd kept my nose out of it, we wouldn't be in this mess."

"Maybe. And maybe you were meant to come here and find him and save him. Did you ever think about that?" Jo looked up at him and found him watching her carefully, as if he expected her to throw her butter knife at him or leap over the table and try to hit him or something. Or as if he thought she were a stark raving loony. She considered it a moment, then shrugged and went back to her lunch.

"I suppose its possible. It was still arrogant of me to think that we were important to him."

"You obviously were. And are. He didn't want to let you out of his sight last night. He was worried that you'd disappear if he couldn't keep an eye on you." That made her face warm and she dipped her head to hide her blush from him. She'd thought she'd sensed some kind of deep emotion on Remy where she and Gin were concerned, but he was so good at locking his feelings away. She'd never been sure. What Nathaniel helped confirm her suspicions.

"Whatever that is, it smells heavenly." Ororo's voice filled the kitchen moments before she appeared. Jo gave her an honest smile and noted that she had a small bag in her hands.

"There's plenty left over. Please," Nathaniel motioned to the table with one hand. "Join us and have some. Its your food. I just didn't want her to go to bed on an empty stomach. She needs food to heal up."

"Thank you. I believe I can spare some time. Alice has the store under control and we are well protected." Ororo set the bag in a chair before she headed for the cupboard to collect a plate for herself, then scooped silverware up out of the drawer. She sat at the table and dished up some of Nathaniel's lunch, taking her time in savoring the crispness of the potatoes and the just right flavor of the pork chop before pausing to motion at the bag with her fork. "That is for you. It contains the few items you left in the shop when you last worked. I thought I would send it with you when you leave."

"Thank you, Ro. For everything," Jo replied. There was a catch in her voice that she couldn't disguise. Ororo nodded, offering her a soft smile.

"You and Ginette will be fine in your new life. You have Remy to watch over you, and you will make new friends in St. Louis. Do not worry about me. I will be fine. The house is well protected and I have a few tricks up my sleeves."

"Ro, she's a bad one. Don't mess with her. If she comes after you, run the other direction."

"I can take care of myself, Jocelyn. I appreciate the concern. But this is my home. It has been for a very long time," Ororo told her, then poked her fork at her. Jo knew it meant the topic was closed to discussion. "You will go lay down and rest when you are finished. You look tired and pale."

"Yes, mommy. Will you come read me a bedtime story?" Ro snorted and Jo heard Nathaniel chuckle. Sighing, she returned to her meal. She was so not digging the whole 'damsel in distress' routine. She'd rather be out kicking vampire ass. Fuck this helpless shit.

~*~*~*~*~

The uniformed officers were waiting for them when they arrived. Gin didn't look at them, instead went to work collecting what she thought they'd need. Several changes of clothing, shoes, a few personal items. Their mp3 players and their laptops. Keepsakes. Her special tarot deck and her spell kit were the first to go in to the suitcase. She wasn't going to go anywhere and not have her spell crafting things. Nor was she willing to let someone else pack it up for her. Anita had told her that Jean Claude was going to contact someone about packing up their apartment and shipping everything to St. Louis. She wasn't sure how she felt about that. She didn't like being indebted to the man any more than she already was.

Jo's keepsakes were easy. In the drawer of her dresser, under her panties, she had a small box that contained a few things from their first trip to New Orleans. The key to the hotel room. A deck of cards she'd snuck out of Remy's pocket. Inside of the deck was the picture of the three of them together. The box also held a few strands of his hair. Gin didn't even want to know how Jo'd gotten those. She packed the box into Jo's bag before trying to decide if there was anything else that her friend would want right away. She didn't think so and she let Anita and their escorts know that she was done.

"Let's go, then. I don't want to stay here any longer than necessary. They know about this place," Anita told her. "The sooner we can get on the plane back to St. Louis, the better. Thank you, officers. We appreciate you coming out."

"No problem, ma'am," one of the officers replied. Anita motioned to the door with one hand. Bobby Lee went first, followed by the uniforms. Gin went after them, with Micah and Anita immediately behind her. Sylvie and Claudia brought up the rear. The sense of wrongness hit her when they hit the stairs. Gin stopped and tried to get a feel for it.

"What is it?" Anita asked her from behind.

"There's something off. I'm not sure what it is, but something isn't right," she replied.

"Everyone be prepared." Anita's tone allowed for no argument and Gin could hear the rasping, metallic sound of guns clearing their holsters. She started forward again, hoping that she was over-reacting. But she didn't think so. It made her glad that Anita had sent Jo back to Ororo's house. One less person to worry about.

The small group stepped out of the building into the parking lot. The sensation of wrongness grew and she cast her gaze about, trying to pinpoint it. At the same moment she knew what she was feeling and where it was coming from, the doors on black car in the lot opened and people swarmed out of the vehicle. She had a moment to recognize Dmitri and Ivan, then people were shouting and someone was dragging her back toward the building.

Most of their attackers were human and the lycanthropes that Anita had brought with met them head on. It was plain to see they were trying to avoid shooting if they had to. Much of the fighting was being done hand to hand and the shifters were doing their best not to hurt anyone while still putting them out of commission.

The whole scene was chaotic, with people screaming and animalistic sounds coming from all around her. She suddenly wished she was back at the house with Jo, avoiding this.

One of the cops was on his radio, calling for backup even as Ivan dropped into all fours and took on his leopard form. Dmitri wasn't far behind him. Together, the two of them headed straight for the uniformed officers, fangs bared and claws extended. She couldn't look away as they slammed into the police. Blood spurted and flesh ripped, the men's voices dying on gurgling cries that she wasn't ever going to forget. As one, the two leopards lifted their heads and their eyes found Gin where she stood frozen.

There was no one between her and those fangs, no one to keep them from ripping into her. She could hear Anita's voice, loud and filled with authority as she called for help on her cell phone. Most of the lycanthropes were still busy with the humans who had come with Dmitri and Ivan, keeping them from running off. None of them had been rendered unconscious, so Gin had to think that Anita'd told them not to. It was highly likely that she didn't want anyone injured so that there would be nothing that could keep them here.

"Gin, get behind me," Micah's voice was soft and filled with authority. She glanced at him for a moment, then literally fell back as she watched his body ripple and shift. In moments, where Micah had been standing, there was now a leopardman. The beast snarled and threw itself at the two approaching leopards. There was no way he could hold the two of them off. She should get up and run, get in a car and get the hell out of there. But she couldn't. She could only stare at the fangs and the claws.

And she saw other fangs, other claws. Memory spilled over her, the dam bursting wide, and she found herself caught up in the flood of images that tore into her mind. Ivan with his fangs out, snarling and hissing as his hips pumped against her body. The sudden, sharp pain of his claws as they pierced her flesh. The low growls when she fought. The enjoyment he got from her whimpers and moans of pain. Worst of all, the fact that none of it had done any good. They'd gone after Jo anyway.

"Gin! Get up! Move!" The sharp command shoved the images away and she found Bobby Lee standing over her, gun out and pointed toward the brawl taking place not that far away. She pulled herself to her feet, her hands grasping at the wall beside her until she stood. But she couldn't move. All she could do was stare.

Micah had tossed Dmitri aside as if he were nothing. Ivan was pinned beneath him, his claws punching holes in the leopard's chest. Ivan was fighting, snarling and hissing at him as he struggled to drag himself out from under the other man. Micah said something, his voice low and distorted by the animal in it. Ivan growled and tried once more to dislodge the weight on his chest. Micah didn't move.

From the corner of her eye, Gin saw Dmitri rise and pace forward. He was behind Micah, stalking his prey with the silent stealth of a real predator. She lifted a hand, tried to give a warning. Little more than a squeak came out. But Bobby Lee heard her. He turned, took aim and pulled the trigger. Dmitri went down hard and didn't get up. Then the man guarding her glanced at her over his shoulder. "Are you okay, Gin?"

She could only stare at the body laying so still on the ground. Bobby Lee's hand reached out and grasped her arm, shaking her gently to get her attention. She shifted her gaze back to him to find that he looked worried. "Gin. Are you okay?"

"You shot him," she whispered. Bobby Lee holstered the gun and turned to face her, blocking her view of the body.

"I shot him." He nodded his head but made no other move. She blinked a moment, then the relief hit her so hard, her knees shook. He reached out and wrapped a hand around her arm, wordlessly keeping her to her feet while she slowly worked through the events of the past few moments.

"Good. He was dirt," she finally nodded, drawing a breath in. Bobby Lee smiled at her, then swept his gaze around the area. He gave a nod of his head before stepping away from her. Apparently the danger was past. She breathed a sigh of relief, then lurched back when she found Micah heading in her direction. He'd shifted back to his human form and he was naked, but his eyes were locked on her. And, once more, she was assaulted by memories.

Panic set in again and she tried to inch further back in the corner, tried to hide from him. He stopped and stared at her, eyes wide. "Gin, I'm not going to hurt you."

She closed her eyes and turned her head, trying to push the fear and the remembered images and feelings aside. "Please don't come any closer," she whispered,

"I know what they did to you, Gin. And I'm not like them. I won't hurt you." His voice was soft and reasonable. But it didn't help.

"Please. Just don't come any closer. Please."

"Okay, Gin. I won't. I promise," he said. "Anita. A little help please."

"Micah? What's wrong?" Anita's voice sounded tired. Gin wished she was anywhere in the world but here, wished that Remy's arms were there to offer her comfort when she needed it so badly.

"She saw me shift," he said quietly, as if that was all that needed to be said.

"Go to the car and wait for us there," Anita replied. "Let me take care of this."

"No. Sylvie. Trust me. She needs someone who will understand. Your temper is... not equipped for this." There was a heavy sigh, then Micah spoke again, louder this time. "Sylvie. Could you please come here?"

"What is it, Micah?" Sylvie's voice was soft and non-threatening. Gin had to wonder, if only for a second or two, if she looked like some wild thing.

"Can you take care of her? She saw me shifted and..." Micah halted and Gin heard another sigh. "Those two were the ones who abused her. She's scared of me now."

"Sure, Micah. I'll take her to the car." There was silence for a few moments, then Sylvie laid a hand on Gin's arm. "They're gone. Its just you and I now. Let me take you to the car. We'll be here a while. The cops are going to want statements."

Gin opened her eyes and looked at Sylvie. "I'm sorry. I'm..."

"No one is going to blame you. Now come on. I sent Claudia to get you something to drink." She let Sylvie lead her across the lot to the SUV they'd arrived in. The sun was shining, the day bright and beautiful. But she was cold inside and she wanted nothing more than to curl up in a ball and die. She was going to become one of those... things. With the next full moon, she was going to become a monster.

What the hell had she been thinking?

~*~*~*~*~

The house was outside of the city proper, lost amidst the overgrowth of weeds and trees and bushes gone wild. Rusted gates guarded the drive from the dirt road and the windows were dark, empty eyes that stared out at nothing. Even in the dark, he could see that it needed paint, that it looked as old and worn and he'd felt many nights in the past five years. The large porch across the front was slanted and creaked with age as he set his feet upon it. Thin fingers of moonlight slid through the moth-eaten curtains to illuminate old rugs and the ghosts made from sheet covered furniture.

It was old and worn down, but it was all his and had been for many years.

Everything he owned was here. He had friends who looked after the place for him, who'd moved his things here when Belladonna had sunk her fangs into him. Everything important in the world was here. "This place is horrible. Why do you keep it?"

He held back the irritation he felt at the question. Most people didn't understand. "Dis city old. De houses old. Dis place," he shrugged as he lit a candle, then turned to look at them. "Dis place a part of history. It all mine, too."

"Just like Gin and Jo are yours?" Anita's voice sounded suspicious. He studied her a moment, then smiled and shook his head. "What did you do to them? Why were they willing to die for you?"

His smile shifted to become a smirk and he turned for the stairs that would take him up to the next floor. The bedrooms were there, as were the things he wanted to collect. He felt as much as heard Anita and the rat with her as they followed along behind him. The stairs creaked a welcome as he set his feet on them. "Why you so worried about dem?"

"Because they were innocents to all this until you dragged them into it. You could have gotten them killed."

He waited until he was at the top, then turned to stare down at her. The woman didn't seem bothered by him and he didn't know if that was a good or bad thing. Crossing his arms over his chest, he wondered just what he should tell her. It was obvious she wasn't going to stop asking questions until she got answers she understood. "Remy don' drag dem into no'ting."

"No?" she climbed the last few steps until she was on the one below him. "Why would they go looking for you after having only known you a week? Why would they willingly put themselves in danger in order to be near you?"

He looked into her face for a long while, studying her. Her shoulders were tense and her expression grim. She was ready to believe the worst of him, which meant nothing he said would make her think any better of him. So he said nothing, simply turned and walked the hallway to the large master bedroom at the end. The two women were right behind him and he could feel Anita's anger raising. She'd never understand his reasons for clinging to the girls any more than she'd understand that the girls had come looking for him because they loved him. That they'd have willingly gone thought hell on earth for him and had, just because they'd wanted to be with him. Because they'd cared. He couldn't remember the last time anyone had cared about him like that.

He trailed into the bedroom, staring at the large, four poster that stood in the center of the back wall. It dominated the room and he felt a deep sorrow that he'd never be able to bring the girls here, that he'd never be able to spend hours in that bed with them, showing them all the ways he cared. It was the only room in the house that didn't have old, worn furniture in it.

The bed had been a luxury purchase, shortly before two teenaged women with mischief and so much more on their minds had burst into his life. He'd wanted to bring them out here that week, but they'd never quite made it. They'd always found darkened corners to explore. And Jo had wanted to see how many sets of sheets they could dirty before the cleaning crew at the hotel stopped changing the beds. He'd done his best to help her find out.

He went to the dresser and pulled out one of the drawers. Slow, unhurried motions saw him pulling out clothes to take with. Old jeans, t-shirts, a few button downs. Socks. A second pair of shoes. Something dressy. Which prompted him to go to the closet. He was going to take the girls someplace nice when they could actually go out. He brought out a few items of dress clothes. There was a suitcase at the top of the closet, which he brought out, as well.

The room remained silent as he packed the bag, slipped his clothes into it in neat piles. There really wasn't much here he needed to take. Nothing that couldn't be replaced. Well, except for a couple of small items.

He moved to a tall bookshelf on one wall. It held tomes of varying sizes and ages. Most of them were there for looks though he'd read a few of them. Still, what he wanted most was there. He reached for a book blindly, knowing good and well where he'd stashed those few things he'd taken away from that encounter. The book fell open to the center, were a picture was nestled between the pages, tucked away there for safe keeping. He lifted it and stared at it. The colors were still bright and vibrant, even in the light from the candle.

It had been taken in the French Quarter, the sun shining brightly overhead. They'd spent the day combing the museum and then had spent some of that night curled around one another in a jazz club before they'd spent the rest of if twined around each other in the bed in their hotel room. The photographer had caught them in a playful mood. He was tickling Gin, who was laughing, trying to squirm away from him. Jo was behind him, her arms around his shoulders while she whispered something in his ear. They were both smiling, a true expression of amusement and enjoyment on their faces. The man who'd taken it had made three copies. One for each of them. The last he'd seen that picture had been the night the girls had come back into his life.

Also hidden between the pages of the book were a pair of ID cards. He'd stolen them from their purses the day before they'd gone home, a reminder that there were people in the world who saw past the exterior to what was on the inside. Both cards had made the girls twenty two, old enough to drink and get into the restricted cards. He'd known they were fakes the first time he'd laid eyes on them. He smirked and tucked them into his jeans pocket. Maybe he'd give them back, now that there was no need for them.

There was one more item there, a length of braid that was half as thick as his pinky. It was in two colors. One was bright red, the other color a few shades darker. It had been made of their hair and was bound on both ends with a tiny rubber band. One section was wholly red, the other wholly reddish-brown. The third section was a mix of the two. They'd presented him with it when he'd taken them to the airport. A token to remember them by. As if he'd forget them after the week they'd spent together. He returned the book to its place on the shelf, then knelt and pulled an large tome from the bottom shelf.

It looked like a copy of Tolkien. It wasn't. Inside were all of his most important papers, cards and money. Things he'd need, now that he had a life he could live again. And the book was only the beginning. He took the book, the picture and the braid and laid them all on top of his clothes. Then he shut the suitcase and turned to look at the women with him.

Anita was pissed, her body tense and rigid. She'd crossed her arms over her chest. Remy offered her a smile. "You want to know why dey put dey lives in danger for me?"

"Yes. I want to know. Why did they put themselves in danger for you."

Remy blew out the candle before he walked to the door. When he got there, he turned and looked at both of them, a soft smile bringing his lips up at the corners. There was only one answer to give. "Love. Dey did it because dey love me."

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