Al is going to be the death of me... or someone.
Title: Mightier Than The Sword- 3
Genre: Fanfiction- The Hollows
Rating: I rate everything NC-17 OR HIGHER just to be safe. I'm not your normal little cookie, and it comes out in ink like poison on the page.
Pairing: Rachel/Al
Disclaimer: I own nothing except the words rattling around my twisted little brain. All recognizable characters/plot points belong to Kim Harrison. There may or may not be spoilers- I don't give spoiler warnings by piece or chapter, so if you haven't read all published books in the series, you may want to skip anything I write.
WARNINGS: I am hardwired for tragic, erotic, sometimes frighteningly dark story-telling. I seldom write anything that is less than an NC-17, never anything less than an R. MOST of my work is even heavier on any/all of the following material- sex consensual, coerced and completely nonconsensual, blood/gore, bizarre magical concepts, a stockpile of torture and horror developed from childhood, a strong background in BDSM and other kinky things, profanity, non-canon plotlines, complete disregard for social norms and niceties, and a strongly purple tint to my prose. I write any and all imaginable sexual pairings- and a few that I'm pretty sure are illegal, or would be if they were possible on this planet. Occasionally I'm in a humorous mood and Cthulu kin make an appearance. I'm also addicted to feedback, the more I get, the more I write.
A/N: I am changing formats. To avoid confusion, every time the POV switches it will say "RPOV" or "APOV" which naturally means Rachel's POV or Al's POV. Hope that helps avoid future problems, folks.
RPOV:
I focused on the dishes in front of me, my mind racing. There were a million questions I could ask, a million answers I could have. But Al had only promised one, and I didn't trust him not to take the first words out of my mouth as the question I wanted answered. I squeezed the rag in my hand, watching the soap lather ooze over my fingers.
"Cat got your tongue?"
Al's voice was rich and dark, his breath tickling my temple. I hated it when he snuck up on me, and forced myself to not jump out of my skin. He moved to the side and stripped off his black leather gloves, folding back his lacy cuffs and pushing them up his arms. I watched in morbid fascination as he reached out and snagged a dish towel from the rack above the sink.
Whistling softly under his breath, he reached for one of the plates and started drying, the tendons in his wrists flexing and twisting. I was mesmerized by the action, my hands falling limply into the sink full of soapy water. He dried what I washed, and raised an eyebrow at me.
"Are you going to finish those?" he asked, nodding towards the pots and pans still waiting to be scrubbed.
"Uhm..." I stumbled for words, finally just nodding and scouring a saucepan with a vengance. He stacked and put away the china, disappearing from my side only to return with our wine glasses, freshly filled. He set mine off to the side and sipped as he watched me work, his face unreadable. I blushed and fumbled a knife into the water.
"Dammit." I fished around under the suds for the blade, and naturally found it with my thumb. "Ow! Bloody hell!" I lifted my injured hand from the water and winced at the amount of blood that welled from the wound.
"Careful, twitchy witch." Al reached out and took my hand, turning it to examine the cut. "I don't want to have to stich you up."
"It's not that bad," I replied. He made a humming sound and brought my thumb to his face, his warm mouth wrapped around the digit before I could snatch it back. I gasped, the heat of his tongue sweeping over the gash sending a shudder of fear straight through me. His ridiculously thick eyelashes fluttered closed for a moment, then lifted. His eyes met mine, dark and full of the kind of knowledge he hadn't earned yet- at least not from me.
I snatched my hand away, the question suddenly crystal clear in my mind. My heart was racing, my chest feeling tight as I struggled for enough air.
"I know my question, Algaliarept." I hated the breathy, high pitch of my voice, the trepidation that was so very obvious.
"Do tell." Al took another swallow of wine, his eyes still smoldering as he rolled the taste of the grapes and my blood in his mouth. "I'm all ears."
"How do I keep you from taking my soul?"
APOV:
It was a good question. Better than he had expected, worse than he could have ever imagined. The answer rang through him like a bell. He answered reluctantly, the words heavy as lead weights on his tongue, compelled by the geas that forced all demons to tell the truth.
"You steal mine first, Rachel Marianna Morgan."
The air around them seemed to shimmer for a moment, settling on their skin like a silken weight.
"You steal my soul first, bind me to you, and make me yours. Otherwise, my itchy-witch, I will own everything you are."
He took a deep breath and stepped back, putting distance between them, his face utterly impassive. He gave her a tight smile and gathered his wineglass, turning on his heel.
"I believe you have this well in hand. I'll be in my library- bring dessert in when you're done, there's a love."
He made a graceful exit from the kitchen. Only when he was alone in the sanctity of his library did he give in to his emotion, resting his head against the cool, shining wood of the paneled walls and letting anger and despair wash through him.
Stupid, stupid demons and their stupid, stupid deals. Taking a deep breath, he straightened his shoulders and reordered his thoughts. He hadn't survived this long by allowing mistakes to cripple him. It just meant that he would have to change his plans.
Lost in thought, he settled back into his chair and began plotting.
Flame away. This is all you're getting until I negogiate a new deal with Al. He's not going to allow me to do what I was going to do. In fact, he has very definite ideas about the next chapter being the last one- I just trashed 3,000 words because he decided that wasn't happening. (Don't worry, it's going to appear in another form, somewhere.) I may have to owe him a mark or two when this is over, if I don't let him have his own wicked way with this fic.