Fic: Gift or Curse Chapters 4b-5b
X-Over: DWP with Laurel K. Hamilton’s Merry Gentry & Anita Blake ‘Verse
Rating: NC-17
Summary: What if Miranda was a powerful Master Vampire and Andy was blessed by a Faerie Fertility Goddess, prophesied to be together, all while running a fashion empire? Neither will be prepared for their ‘worlds’ converging or being unwitting pawns in a power-struggle in their supernatural/magical worlds.
Characters: Miranda, Andy, Lily, Doug, Nigel, Emily, Serena; Merry Gentry Series’ Characters; Anita Blake Series’ Characters
Shout-Out: Thanks to my betas - Melanacious and Seelyfey, I definitely couldn’t have done it without y’all. Also thanks to the Laurel K .Hamilton Fan Sites which were lifesavers in terms of research.
Disclaimer: Devil Wears Prada characters belong to Lauren Weisberger and 20th Century Fox. I make no money off of this and I intend no infringement. Also, I don't own Laurell K. Hamilton’s Anita Blake and Merry Gentry universe and I mean no infringement there either, I make no money from this.
Spoiler Alert for Merry Gentry Series
Chapter 4b
Shaking her head brought her back to the present.
“Are you sure you’re all right honey?” Andy’s mother came up behind, touching her shoulder and gently turning her around to look into her mother’s concerned, worried face.
“I’m fine mom. I’m just a little tired and overwhelmed about everything I have to do before leaving in a couple days.”
“Are you sure this is what you want to do? I’m sure your father could still talk to his editor-friend Horace over at the Plain-Dealer.” Her parents weren’t huge fans of her moving to New York City. It was almost if they knew that once she left that they’d never see the Andy standing before them today. It was more than the “my little girl is leaving us syndrome’` that most parents experienced when a child moved out. It frightened her.
Neither parent knew their memories of Andy were magically implanted. Elizabeth Sachs “remembered” carrying Andy for 9 months, burping her, changing her diapers. She even “remembered” her first word, “Bo -“Andy’s favorite stuffed pig. But she always knew there was something a little… different about her Andy. Richard and her had become experts at avoiding the issue of Andy’s “specialness”. It was better that way. But now Elizabeth felt that their time for avoidance was up.
“Mom, I appreciate it, but I need to do this!” What she didn’t tell her Mom is that she wanted to know why she was stronger than even her bulky football player-friends from school, why her libido was off-the-charts, why her eyes started… glowing, when she was feeling intense emotions - mostly during sex. She found that the following day of meeting Max
***
They’d slept pretty much all morning, and she woke to the feel of Max gently caressing her thighs, palming her mound as she snuggled up to her from behind moving her hips against Andy’s bottom. Andy rolled over, and thought, as she threw her thigh over Max’s, pinning her lover underneath. Can there possibly be anything better than a hot woman writhing under you?!
“Good morning,” Andy huskily growled. She moved her left thigh to hook underneath Max’s thigh, opening Max’s thighs even more. Andy began to leisurely thrust her pussy against Max, her nipples rubbing across Max’s chocolaty-pink, swollen nubs. Max slid her arms around Andy’s shoulder, while one hand tangled in the hair at Andy’s nape, her long legs loosely wrapping around Andy’s thighs.
Andy could feel the arousal racing through her at mach speed, thickening her veins, tightening her skin making it sensitive. Andy slid her hands down Max’s torso, towards her back, over the swells of her upper buttocks, to cup her ass. Max shivered - Andy turned her on quicker than any lover she’d had before, leaving her almost breathless. But then she noticed something different about Andy’s eyes. Where before her eyes were a gorgeous copper-brown, they now seemed to be… swirling? With hints of gold and… glowing?
“Andy? Your eyes! They’re… kinda glowy?”
***
Andy was immediately brought back from her reverie when she heard a thump against the door from a soccer ball being accidentally kicked by her cousin Mark. She opened the door grabbing, trapping the ball before kicking it back.
“Hey Andy! Ready for my “Special Edition” burgers?” Andy’s Dad asked. He was standing over a huge grill, with his ‘Kiss the Cook’ apron on.
“Sure Dad. You know how I like it, right -, “a grinning Andy gestured to the burgers on the grill.
“Yeah, yeah, you’re the only one I know that eats beef that bloody, “he shuddered as he thought about that Porterhouse Steak she ate at Gene & Georgetti’s Restaurant for her graduation dinner last week.
Handing over a plate with a fairly bloody burger with all her favorite fixings, Mr. Sachs took a moment to be proud of the beautiful woman his daughter had become. “Andy, I just want you to know how incredibly proud I am of you. And no matter what happens I’ll always love you.”
Andy could feel tears pooling in her eyes as she looked at her father before turning to look out at the rest of the assembled family-members, “Thank you Dad. That means the world to me.” Her hand came up to gently squeeze her Dad’s hand, before continuing on to the picnic table laden with all the fixins’ essential for a proper bar-b-cue.
Chapter 5a
Miranda stood looking out her office window at Runway. Her daughters were still at their father’s - a request Miranda made following The Gathering. She might be planning an extended stay for them if the fall-out from that meeting was what she anticipated. Miranda wrapped her deceptively strong arms around her middle, with one finger worrying a button on her Stella McCartney blouse. Thinking back to last week, Miranda knew that the time to meet with Jean-Claude needed to be sooner rather than later.
***
Flashback
Miranda could feel her chest heaving with exertion, her side stinging as the rapidly healing wound closed. The ‘stale-mate’ ensued even as the scent of blood and other… things permeated air.
“Fine, I’ll consider your proposal to join the Council. In the meantime, in order to properly consider this disgrace of an “invitation”, you should make plans for a meeting very soon. Or do you find that beyond your competence to facilitate this possibility?” Miranda sneered.
After the preliminary introduction for the beginning of the Gathering, certain protocols had to be adhered to - mostly Miranda thought it was all needless crap. Apparently these people had never heard of a computer or an I-Phone/Blackberry.
The room they were in, was fashioned like a suite at Versailles. All glittering gold, Italian marble statues, and Louis IX furniture. It was meant to look luxurious, but was actually quite uncomfortable. The high-backed chairs and large round table were both Chippendale, and the table, like some macabre tea-party, was fully set with plates and silver utensils. On the side of each chair were large pillows covered with damask patterning for their Pomme de Sangs.
Serena knelt on one of the pillows at her Master’s feet, decked out in appropriate Pet-attire. A delicate collar gleamed at her long, graceful neck, and her hair glowed a soft, burnished gold. Her sheer thongs and thigh highs hid little, and her beautiful sheer La Perla bra only served to highlight her full breasts capped off by pierced, gold-hooped nipples. The set was the color of egg-plant and it complimented Serena’s skin beautifully. She was decadence on display, as Miranda meant for her to be. As all the other pets were meant to represent.
In contrast, her Lieutenants, Nigel and Emily, stood directly at her back, a picture of carefully reigned violence ready for action at a moment’s notice. Roy and Jaqueline were seated near the huge marble fireplace as all lower soldiers of each Council member were placed. However, Miranda put Roy near Jaqueline simply because she needed someone she trusted to ‘watch Jaqueline in the event that things got heavy.
Belle Morte sat looking in amusement at Miranda, “Your Pet is beautiful, perhaps later after business is conducted you might lend her into my graceful care.”
“As delightful as that might be - particularly for my Pet, I’d rather she leave here with all her parts intact,” Miranda responded drolly.
“Padma,” Miranda turned an icy glare on the Master of Beasts. “If you cannot control your instinct to ‘reach out’ to my Lieutenants then I can promise you my ‘instinct’ to react to this insult will be very unpleasant. You decide how badly you want Emily.” She could hear the growl welling up in Emily’s throat, along with her Power pulsating out like an open oven.
“Non, non, please let us not begin on such… difficult terms.” said Belle Morte. “We ‘ave much to cover, and in the spirit of cooperation, Padma will allow one of his Lieutenants to briefly fill the role of a Pomme de Sang (bleeder) to Mademoiselle Daywalker. Won’t you?” She turned those glowing golden-brown eyes on the Master of the Beasts.
He was a swarthy man, perhaps of Southeast Indian descent, who’d love nothing more than to rip out Miranda’s throat. But he also had the self-preservation to know that Belle Morte (and Miranda for that matter) could easily destroy him with little effort. However, the ‘winds of change were upon them’, and he planned on being there at the end to help drive an ax into Miranda, the Daywalker’s neck. Then he planned to pimp out her Second, Nigel, to the meanest vampire he knew. He seethed with hatred at the group. Soon, he thought, soon.
“Fine. Anouk, make yourself available,” Padma said to his Pet. Then he turned to Miranda and grimaced. “Enjoy.”
Miranda could literally see the acidic hatred bleeding from his eyes. She rolled her own in apparent boredom - which she knew would only infuriate him more.
***
The meeting room was crowded tonight, with all of the Council members and their Subjects. There were age-old rules of hospitality that forbid too much bloodshed, of course, but one could never be entirely sure when keeping the company of these backstabbing vipers. Still feigning boredom, Miranda took a moment to study the assembly.
Aside from Padma and Belle Morte with her creepy, Second Musette, Mr. Oliver, better known as the Traveler, was also present. The Traveler rarely left his lair and often chose, instead, to “borrow” a local body wherever his presence was required. Today was no exception. To his left, stood Jaqueline’s former Master, Morte de A’Mour, head of the Rotting Vampire Line, and on his right, was The Dragon. The Dragon was the head of the Empath Line, and though she looked only faintly amused now, Miranda knew her anger to be terrible. All in all, they were a delightful bunch.
“There seems to be some mistake,” Miranda said, her voice flat, and carefully measured. “I am not, nor have I ever been even remotely interested in a place on the Council. I think I’ve made myself very clear in the past,”
”But surely you understand that you have a duty to your Vampire brethren?” Padma asked. Though his voice projected sweet innocence, the ever-present sneer on his lips detracted from the picture.
Miranda narrowed her gaze and her Power immediately flooded the room, hot and intense like the Sun. “I don’t think you know your place Padma.” Miranda’s voice was deceptively mild, but her power was suffocating. “Need I remind you that this is beneath me? That you are beneath me?”
The heat of Miranda’s Power scoured across his skin, and Padma could no longer contain his rage and hatred at the insult. Pride and anger over-shadowed his caution. “Me thinks that you don’t have the… stomach for this,” said Padma with a sneer. “You’ve been around your humans for far too long. They have made you weak.” He barely finished his sentence before Emily was flying across the table.
Shifting her hands into claws, arms outstretched, elongating her teeth for tearing, Emily slammed, claws first, into Padma’s side. She knocked him out of his chair but before she could cause more damage, Padma let loose his own Power and forced her to fully shift. Emily let out a hoarse cry, and was left momentarily breathless from the pain.
Nigel was moving before Emily even made it to Padma, crashing into Belle’s servant Angelito before the huge enforcer could take Emily on her unprotected side. They both went tumbling from the force of impact but Nigel recovered faster, swiping his nails- turned-claws across Angelito’s face, leaving four deep scratches.
Angelito howled, wrapping a powerful hand around Nigel’s waist, while the other came up attempting to impale Nigel on the side. Roy made a move towards Miranda, shifting himself to help guard her. Serena began to partially shift as well, also lending protection to her Mistress.
Suddenly, a thunderous smack came down onto the table, freezing everyone. “That is enough!” Miranda’s voice was deep as it echoed around the chamber, seeming all-knowing and powerful. Her eyes glowed incandescent and her Power released, making it seem as if all the sound and color was getting pulled from the room.
As darkness began to spill across the room, Belle spoke. “D’accord, d’accord, stop, merci…” Musette, who had begun move towards Nigel’s back, stilled.
“If I find that anyone has drawn blood from my Servants I can promise you that I will draw blood next.” Miranda glared at the assembly before turning her attention to the Master of Beasts. Facing Padma, Miranda’s icy demeanor disappeared and she almost looked congenial to those who did not know her. Those who did, held their breath. Miranda was most dangerous when she was being pleasant. It meant she’d already won.
“Padma, Padma, Padma - you do try my patience. It is unfortunate that Jean-Claude killed your son before I could. But I would have taken a great deal longer and more pleasure in eradicating his presence from this world. Don’t think for one moment that courtesy would not extend to you-of course then we’d have three openings on the council now wouldn’t we? Now that would leave the council in quite a bit of a quandary. All those Master Vampires in America… and no where to go? What would they do?…”
The elevated scent of fear in the room answered Miranda’s question about why the Council was so insistent about the status of her membership. They were worried that a new, more powerful Council would be incorporated in America.
Suddenly a body pressed intimately against Miranda from behind, and a voice whispered into her ear, arms enfolding her waist. ”We could rule this world together mon cher. Do you remember what it was like when we were together?” Miranda could feel a hint of fang running along her neck from Belle Morte. “You were so passionate - it was if there wasn’t enough. It could be that and so much more -“
For a moment Miranda let Belle get away with it before grabbing one of her hands, her Power leaping out over her finger-tips. Blue fire engulfed Belle’s hands, causing Belle to feel as if her hand was being dipped in acid. Belle tried to hold her position - not wanting to ‘give in’ front of the rest, but it did not stop her from hissing in pain.
“Why do you insist on trying my patience Belle?” Miranda asked, stroking Belle’s burning hands. “Surely you understand that while I have my own line, She is still my Master. Are you asking me to… “
“Tell your Servant to get that dagger out of my side,” interrupted Belle, her voices strained from the pain. “If he draws blood then I agree, things will get very ugly, very fast-“
“That warning is entirely too late.” Miranda sneered in derision as she looked at the various fashion failures. Miranda released a big sigh while moving at the same time. In a blink she was standing behind Belle Morte holding the 2 little “demons” Musette’s lil’ torturers-- 2 feet off the ground. She threw them across the room, watching with some satisfaction as they hit the fireplace.
Hmmm, no fire? She’d have to fix that. Nigel, Miranda mind called, it’s feeling a little chilly in here, would you start a fire? Flames began to lick outwards, caressing any vampires nearby, their screams piercing the air. In the meantime, Belle attempted to unleash her Animal to Call: big cats - including Serena.
With sudden insight, Miranda knew that if she would not acquiesce to joining the Council, they would try to kill her. If Serena fully changed under Belle’s ‘calling’ she’d be forced to do her bidding. Striped white fur started to spill over her skin, but Miranda exerted her own power, slowing the Change. Serena’s back bowed under the strain. She raised her head towards Miranda, searching out her eyes: Miranda minutely nodded before Serena smoothly flowed to her feet, picking up a heavy chair to throw at Padma’s head.
While this usually presented no problem for Padma, he was preoccupied fending off the attack from Emily, and so did not see the chair’s trajectory. Emily, who was standing almost 7feet tall, with shockingly white fur spilling down her back and black around her hands and ears. Emily, whose yellow wolf-eyes were made that much more eerie by her unnatural coloring. Emily, who was currently forcing Padma to kneel as he tried to keep her deadly claws at bay.
The only reason he hadn’t been able to Call her was because of Miranda’s Power holding him at bay. He started to roll onto his back to flip Emily over before he was brutally hit in the side by a flying heavy chair.
It took his concentration off all the Weres he was trying to control, but more importantly it gave Emily an opportunity to move her snapping jaws with dripping saliva towards his chest. You could almost hear a wet, tearing, sound, as her teeth bit into the muscle of his right breast. Blood splattered over her white fur making it look grisly. Teeth tore away at skin and he began to scream once he realized they were puncturing his organs. The pain was excruciating!
A few feet away, Nigel was having a bit more problem. His suit was ruined, shredded from the talons on Antonio’s hands. Antonio was almost as old as Nigel, only he was a hulking, menacing, 6’8, Master vampire. Which put them on more even ground. Plus Antonio didn’t really care for Nigel after Nigel had thwarted his advances - Antonio only played ‘tough’ and others often found themselves needing some kind of medical treatment afterwards, if not outright burial upon a night in his “tender care.” Nigel thought he was crass and conveyed that to him-apparently he still held a grudge.
Nigel was able to bend backwards almost supernaturally to avoid another punch. Christ! Getting punched by him was like getting hit by a block of cement! He rolled, then swept a leg behind’s Antonio’s and as he fell, Nigel furiously looked around before quickly scampering over towards the fireplace. Punching a piece of marble, Nigel quickly stepped back, swung around to bring full force his hand with the marble rock towards Antonio’s unguarded head. The thud echoed around the room.
Giving a roar, Antonio leaped forward only to be hindered by a leaping Jaqueline?! She began rotting all over his head - which Vampire or not-would make anyone distracted. He saw Antonio reach up towards Jaqueline, grabbing her shoulders to pull her off. Nigel blurred forward, faster than any human eye, and sank his talon-like fingers into Antonio’s chest.
Miranda’s nails became dagger-like as she fully unleashed her Power. The smell of rain and thunderstorms perfumed the air. The growing Darkness continued, and anyone caught in its path suddenly felt as if they couldn’t breathe, as if their powers were weakened and drained away.
Miranda nodded at Roy and he too, fully unleashed his beast. His incisors grew down to his chin, his eyes turned golden with a glowing red ring around the irises and his pointed ears complimented his growing snout and powerful jaws. Two wicked looking swords appeared in each of his hands with one already slashing upwards through one of Padma’s underlings. Intestines spilled out and the blood sprayed both Miranda and Belle. The disemboweled body screeched, even though its mouth no longer had lips from it ‘rotting’ away. His nails lengthened into rat-like claws even as he jumped over Belle and Miranda to take out one of Padma’s were-lions.
Miranda and Belle Morte were actually frozen in horrific tableau as each tried to out-do the other in Power. Belle with her Ardeur and Miranda with the Darkness. The weaker Weres and Vampires around the room had fallen to the ground with both of their Powers unleashed, bleeding through their ears and noses, even the vampires sweated blood, unable to fight back.
“STOP!”
Mr. Oliver: The Traveler used his power to echo his voice over the fighting. All fighting froze in surprise, “that is ENOUGH!”
“Monsieur Nigel, Mademoiselle Emily, Daywalker, you’ve gotten your pound of flesh. Belle Morte, you’ve ‘tested’ them and lost - again.”
Belle Morte looked at him with her glowing golden-brown eyes, “How dare you -“
“I dare because I will finish it! Let them go or there will be no one left. Do you think these Servants are the only ones I’ve brought to the soiree?” Mr. Oliver stood, preparing to leave.
“I knew something like this might occur, and in the interest of fairness, if you are looking for a battle than make it official or we will come to an unpleasant conclusion here.”
“I know that I may not be the most powerful here, but I’ve been preparing for the eventuality that you would not be satisfied.” Mr. Oliver nodded at Belle Morte, the Miranda, before continuing out the door, leaving behind everyone to pick up the fragments.
***
Miranda stood looking out over the New York skyline, after office hours, mulling over the events of the meeting. The political consequences of her actions were not lost on her. She’d stirred up a hornet’s nest of the most powerful vampires in Europe, and Miranda knew she could ill afford to miscalculate her next steps. The last thing she needed were distractions, and yet, distracted she was. The dreams had started up again. Who was that young woman from the hotel lobby in Chicago, and why a few years later did she still feature so prominently in her dreams?
She sometimes still wished she’d given into the urge to glide over to that woman so that she could run her fingers through those chocolate brown waves. And those lips were too succulent to be left unattended for long. She imagined them pressing up against her throat, or nibbling on another part of her body. Despite her appalling fashion sense, she wondered what the girl would look like in a red Valentino. She could still remember every little detail about her - even years later. It was… unsettling. Like so much of her life had become unsettling.
She sighed and brought an elegant hand up to rub the bridge of her nose - what to do next? Well certainly it meant a visit to St. Louis sooner rather than later. She really hoped these next steps did not include waking her Maker: Marmee Noir. Waking the Mother of All Darkness was something she wished dearly to avoid.
***
Chapter 5b
Back in Los Angeles
Doyle, Princess Meredith’s Captain of the guard and consort, suddenly gasped, startled awake by that dream. He sat up panting, trying not to wake Merry. The… girl. This was the not the first time he’d dreamt of the girl. He looked up towards the doorway - “You’ve had them too,” came a solemn whisper from the pale-haired figure.
“You mean I am not the only one?” asked Doyle as he gently extracted himself from a pale arm wrapped around his middle without the disturbing the woman.
“No, Sholto has had the dreams about the girl as well. What do you think it means?” Mistral, the Storm King and Princess Meredith’s other consort, followed Doyle out of the room, but not before gently closing the door.
“Have you told Merry?” Doyle asked.
“No, I think it’s time to find out what these dreams mean and why we are having them.” Doyle hadn’t admitted that ‘the girl’ felt… familiar and that upon waking from the dreams he often felt empty. The Sidhe often had prophetic dreams, the fact that the other Fathers were having dreams about the same ‘girl’ made it even more disturbing.
“What do you think it means - I mean who is she?” asked Mistral.
“I don’t know,” said Doyle, “but I think it is time we spoke to the other Fathers.” The fact that they were all Fathers made them more connected ---linked, and Doyle knew, instinctively, that all five of them were involved in the dreams.
Once bodyguards to Princess Meredith, the five former guards had impregnated the princess with twins and now ruled by her side as her consorts. It had been a phenomenon. Five fathers, two children. The courts had been thrown into a frenzy at the news, but however much the Fey wished to deny it, Princess Meredith was now the official heir to Queen Andais and the Unseelie throne. And these five men, Doyle knew, would do anything for their princess.
“Do you think this has to do with Frost?” asked Mistral.
Doyle thought about the possibility. Frost, after all, had been one of the fathers, though he no longer existed in his natural form. Frost had been sacrificed in their final battle against Prince Cel (Princess Meredith’s rival for the throne) and had been turned into a Stag. No one knew where he’d gone since.
“Father?” Doyle glanced down as his son, Darius, broke in to his reverie. “Are you talking about the girl?” Darius greatly resembled his father Doyle. Skin tone a beautiful onyx with tri-colored light, dark and cerulean blue eyes, he was a favorite among the human press and feared among his own kind-his resemblance to Doyle, the Queen’s Darkness, unnerved many. Lately he’d been staying at the Mound to keep tabs on court intrigue, and had just arrived home looking slightly disheveled.
His brother Aiden, was the complete opposite of him; introverted and studious. Resembling Mistral with pale coloring similar to a cloud-storm, he found facts and sciences comforting. Doyle loved them both dearly.
Mistral grinned. “Maybe. How was the flight?” Like Doyle he hated traveling by plane.
Darius sighed. “I wish I had a bit of your Powers father, then I could ride the wind instead of feeling like a ship in a storm. Anyways, I’ve seen that same girl in my dreams since I was a teenager. I thought she might have been a girl I had a crush on, but she kept re-appearing -“
”Why didn’t you tell us?” Doyle asked, as he walked closer to his son.
“Because I thought I was the only one… why?” Darius narrowed his eyes. “What’s going on?” Both of their sons were very aware of court intrigue and why their Family chose to live here in Los Angeles instead of the Mound.
“Well nothing happens by coincidence when dealing with the Fey - it’s time to figure out who this girl is and perhaps find her. Chances are, if we’re having these dreams others -namely our enemies, might know of her, which means she’s in danger.”
“Should we tell Merry -“ began Mistral.
”Not yet, let me find out more information.” The feeling of premonition was growing stronger and with a look of determination, Doyle began walking back towards the bedroom. It was his turn tonight to sleep with Merry, which reminded him that he hadn’t bothered to put on a robe to cover his naked form. But the Sidhe didn’t have the same hang-ups that humans had around sex and nudity.
“Father, why do I feel as if I should know her?” Darius looked bemused as he gestured toward both his fathers. Mistral and Doyle shared a look.
Rating: NC-17
Summary: What if Miranda was a powerful Master Vampire and Andy was blessed by a Faerie Fertility Goddess, prophesied to be together, all while running a fashion empire? Neither will be prepared for their ‘worlds’ converging or being unwitting pawns in a power-struggle in their supernatural/magical worlds.
Characters: Miranda, Andy, Lily, Doug, Nigel, Emily, Serena; Merry Gentry Series’ Characters; Anita Blake Series’ Characters
Shout-Out: Thanks to my betas - Melanacious and Seelyfey, I definitely couldn’t have done it without y’all. Also thanks to the Laurel K .Hamilton Fan Sites which were lifesavers in terms of research.
Disclaimer: Devil Wears Prada characters belong to Lauren Weisberger and 20th Century Fox. I make no money off of this and I intend no infringement. Also, I don't own Laurell K. Hamilton’s Anita Blake and Merry Gentry universe and I mean no infringement there either, I make no money from this.
Spoiler Alert for Merry Gentry Series
Chapter 4b
Shaking her head brought her back to the present.
“Are you sure you’re all right honey?” Andy’s mother came up behind, touching her shoulder and gently turning her around to look into her mother’s concerned, worried face.
“I’m fine mom. I’m just a little tired and overwhelmed about everything I have to do before leaving in a couple days.”
“Are you sure this is what you want to do? I’m sure your father could still talk to his editor-friend Horace over at the Plain-Dealer.” Her parents weren’t huge fans of her moving to New York City. It was almost if they knew that once she left that they’d never see the Andy standing before them today. It was more than the “my little girl is leaving us syndrome’` that most parents experienced when a child moved out. It frightened her.
Neither parent knew their memories of Andy were magically implanted. Elizabeth Sachs “remembered” carrying Andy for 9 months, burping her, changing her diapers. She even “remembered” her first word, “Bo -“Andy’s favorite stuffed pig. But she always knew there was something a little… different about her Andy. Richard and her had become experts at avoiding the issue of Andy’s “specialness”. It was better that way. But now Elizabeth felt that their time for avoidance was up.
“Mom, I appreciate it, but I need to do this!” What she didn’t tell her Mom is that she wanted to know why she was stronger than even her bulky football player-friends from school, why her libido was off-the-charts, why her eyes started… glowing, when she was feeling intense emotions - mostly during sex. She found that the following day of meeting Max
***
They’d slept pretty much all morning, and she woke to the feel of Max gently caressing her thighs, palming her mound as she snuggled up to her from behind moving her hips against Andy’s bottom. Andy rolled over, and thought, as she threw her thigh over Max’s, pinning her lover underneath. Can there possibly be anything better than a hot woman writhing under you?!
“Good morning,” Andy huskily growled. She moved her left thigh to hook underneath Max’s thigh, opening Max’s thighs even more. Andy began to leisurely thrust her pussy against Max, her nipples rubbing across Max’s chocolaty-pink, swollen nubs. Max slid her arms around Andy’s shoulder, while one hand tangled in the hair at Andy’s nape, her long legs loosely wrapping around Andy’s thighs.
Andy could feel the arousal racing through her at mach speed, thickening her veins, tightening her skin making it sensitive. Andy slid her hands down Max’s torso, towards her back, over the swells of her upper buttocks, to cup her ass. Max shivered - Andy turned her on quicker than any lover she’d had before, leaving her almost breathless. But then she noticed something different about Andy’s eyes. Where before her eyes were a gorgeous copper-brown, they now seemed to be… swirling? With hints of gold and… glowing?
“Andy? Your eyes! They’re… kinda glowy?”
***
Andy was immediately brought back from her reverie when she heard a thump against the door from a soccer ball being accidentally kicked by her cousin Mark. She opened the door grabbing, trapping the ball before kicking it back.
“Hey Andy! Ready for my “Special Edition” burgers?” Andy’s Dad asked. He was standing over a huge grill, with his ‘Kiss the Cook’ apron on.
“Sure Dad. You know how I like it, right -, “a grinning Andy gestured to the burgers on the grill.
“Yeah, yeah, you’re the only one I know that eats beef that bloody, “he shuddered as he thought about that Porterhouse Steak she ate at Gene & Georgetti’s Restaurant for her graduation dinner last week.
Handing over a plate with a fairly bloody burger with all her favorite fixings, Mr. Sachs took a moment to be proud of the beautiful woman his daughter had become. “Andy, I just want you to know how incredibly proud I am of you. And no matter what happens I’ll always love you.”
Andy could feel tears pooling in her eyes as she looked at her father before turning to look out at the rest of the assembled family-members, “Thank you Dad. That means the world to me.” Her hand came up to gently squeeze her Dad’s hand, before continuing on to the picnic table laden with all the fixins’ essential for a proper bar-b-cue.
Chapter 5a
Miranda stood looking out her office window at Runway. Her daughters were still at their father’s - a request Miranda made following The Gathering. She might be planning an extended stay for them if the fall-out from that meeting was what she anticipated. Miranda wrapped her deceptively strong arms around her middle, with one finger worrying a button on her Stella McCartney blouse. Thinking back to last week, Miranda knew that the time to meet with Jean-Claude needed to be sooner rather than later.
***
Flashback
Miranda could feel her chest heaving with exertion, her side stinging as the rapidly healing wound closed. The ‘stale-mate’ ensued even as the scent of blood and other… things permeated air.
“Fine, I’ll consider your proposal to join the Council. In the meantime, in order to properly consider this disgrace of an “invitation”, you should make plans for a meeting very soon. Or do you find that beyond your competence to facilitate this possibility?” Miranda sneered.
After the preliminary introduction for the beginning of the Gathering, certain protocols had to be adhered to - mostly Miranda thought it was all needless crap. Apparently these people had never heard of a computer or an I-Phone/Blackberry.
The room they were in, was fashioned like a suite at Versailles. All glittering gold, Italian marble statues, and Louis IX furniture. It was meant to look luxurious, but was actually quite uncomfortable. The high-backed chairs and large round table were both Chippendale, and the table, like some macabre tea-party, was fully set with plates and silver utensils. On the side of each chair were large pillows covered with damask patterning for their Pomme de Sangs.
Serena knelt on one of the pillows at her Master’s feet, decked out in appropriate Pet-attire. A delicate collar gleamed at her long, graceful neck, and her hair glowed a soft, burnished gold. Her sheer thongs and thigh highs hid little, and her beautiful sheer La Perla bra only served to highlight her full breasts capped off by pierced, gold-hooped nipples. The set was the color of egg-plant and it complimented Serena’s skin beautifully. She was decadence on display, as Miranda meant for her to be. As all the other pets were meant to represent.
In contrast, her Lieutenants, Nigel and Emily, stood directly at her back, a picture of carefully reigned violence ready for action at a moment’s notice. Roy and Jaqueline were seated near the huge marble fireplace as all lower soldiers of each Council member were placed. However, Miranda put Roy near Jaqueline simply because she needed someone she trusted to ‘watch Jaqueline in the event that things got heavy.
Belle Morte sat looking in amusement at Miranda, “Your Pet is beautiful, perhaps later after business is conducted you might lend her into my graceful care.”
“As delightful as that might be - particularly for my Pet, I’d rather she leave here with all her parts intact,” Miranda responded drolly.
“Padma,” Miranda turned an icy glare on the Master of Beasts. “If you cannot control your instinct to ‘reach out’ to my Lieutenants then I can promise you my ‘instinct’ to react to this insult will be very unpleasant. You decide how badly you want Emily.” She could hear the growl welling up in Emily’s throat, along with her Power pulsating out like an open oven.
“Non, non, please let us not begin on such… difficult terms.” said Belle Morte. “We ‘ave much to cover, and in the spirit of cooperation, Padma will allow one of his Lieutenants to briefly fill the role of a Pomme de Sang (bleeder) to Mademoiselle Daywalker. Won’t you?” She turned those glowing golden-brown eyes on the Master of the Beasts.
He was a swarthy man, perhaps of Southeast Indian descent, who’d love nothing more than to rip out Miranda’s throat. But he also had the self-preservation to know that Belle Morte (and Miranda for that matter) could easily destroy him with little effort. However, the ‘winds of change were upon them’, and he planned on being there at the end to help drive an ax into Miranda, the Daywalker’s neck. Then he planned to pimp out her Second, Nigel, to the meanest vampire he knew. He seethed with hatred at the group. Soon, he thought, soon.
“Fine. Anouk, make yourself available,” Padma said to his Pet. Then he turned to Miranda and grimaced. “Enjoy.”
Miranda could literally see the acidic hatred bleeding from his eyes. She rolled her own in apparent boredom - which she knew would only infuriate him more.
***
The meeting room was crowded tonight, with all of the Council members and their Subjects. There were age-old rules of hospitality that forbid too much bloodshed, of course, but one could never be entirely sure when keeping the company of these backstabbing vipers. Still feigning boredom, Miranda took a moment to study the assembly.
Aside from Padma and Belle Morte with her creepy, Second Musette, Mr. Oliver, better known as the Traveler, was also present. The Traveler rarely left his lair and often chose, instead, to “borrow” a local body wherever his presence was required. Today was no exception. To his left, stood Jaqueline’s former Master, Morte de A’Mour, head of the Rotting Vampire Line, and on his right, was The Dragon. The Dragon was the head of the Empath Line, and though she looked only faintly amused now, Miranda knew her anger to be terrible. All in all, they were a delightful bunch.
“There seems to be some mistake,” Miranda said, her voice flat, and carefully measured. “I am not, nor have I ever been even remotely interested in a place on the Council. I think I’ve made myself very clear in the past,”
”But surely you understand that you have a duty to your Vampire brethren?” Padma asked. Though his voice projected sweet innocence, the ever-present sneer on his lips detracted from the picture.
Miranda narrowed her gaze and her Power immediately flooded the room, hot and intense like the Sun. “I don’t think you know your place Padma.” Miranda’s voice was deceptively mild, but her power was suffocating. “Need I remind you that this is beneath me? That you are beneath me?”
The heat of Miranda’s Power scoured across his skin, and Padma could no longer contain his rage and hatred at the insult. Pride and anger over-shadowed his caution. “Me thinks that you don’t have the… stomach for this,” said Padma with a sneer. “You’ve been around your humans for far too long. They have made you weak.” He barely finished his sentence before Emily was flying across the table.
Shifting her hands into claws, arms outstretched, elongating her teeth for tearing, Emily slammed, claws first, into Padma’s side. She knocked him out of his chair but before she could cause more damage, Padma let loose his own Power and forced her to fully shift. Emily let out a hoarse cry, and was left momentarily breathless from the pain.
Nigel was moving before Emily even made it to Padma, crashing into Belle’s servant Angelito before the huge enforcer could take Emily on her unprotected side. They both went tumbling from the force of impact but Nigel recovered faster, swiping his nails- turned-claws across Angelito’s face, leaving four deep scratches.
Angelito howled, wrapping a powerful hand around Nigel’s waist, while the other came up attempting to impale Nigel on the side. Roy made a move towards Miranda, shifting himself to help guard her. Serena began to partially shift as well, also lending protection to her Mistress.
Suddenly, a thunderous smack came down onto the table, freezing everyone. “That is enough!” Miranda’s voice was deep as it echoed around the chamber, seeming all-knowing and powerful. Her eyes glowed incandescent and her Power released, making it seem as if all the sound and color was getting pulled from the room.
As darkness began to spill across the room, Belle spoke. “D’accord, d’accord, stop, merci…” Musette, who had begun move towards Nigel’s back, stilled.
“If I find that anyone has drawn blood from my Servants I can promise you that I will draw blood next.” Miranda glared at the assembly before turning her attention to the Master of Beasts. Facing Padma, Miranda’s icy demeanor disappeared and she almost looked congenial to those who did not know her. Those who did, held their breath. Miranda was most dangerous when she was being pleasant. It meant she’d already won.
“Padma, Padma, Padma - you do try my patience. It is unfortunate that Jean-Claude killed your son before I could. But I would have taken a great deal longer and more pleasure in eradicating his presence from this world. Don’t think for one moment that courtesy would not extend to you-of course then we’d have three openings on the council now wouldn’t we? Now that would leave the council in quite a bit of a quandary. All those Master Vampires in America… and no where to go? What would they do?…”
The elevated scent of fear in the room answered Miranda’s question about why the Council was so insistent about the status of her membership. They were worried that a new, more powerful Council would be incorporated in America.
Suddenly a body pressed intimately against Miranda from behind, and a voice whispered into her ear, arms enfolding her waist. ”We could rule this world together mon cher. Do you remember what it was like when we were together?” Miranda could feel a hint of fang running along her neck from Belle Morte. “You were so passionate - it was if there wasn’t enough. It could be that and so much more -“
For a moment Miranda let Belle get away with it before grabbing one of her hands, her Power leaping out over her finger-tips. Blue fire engulfed Belle’s hands, causing Belle to feel as if her hand was being dipped in acid. Belle tried to hold her position - not wanting to ‘give in’ front of the rest, but it did not stop her from hissing in pain.
“Why do you insist on trying my patience Belle?” Miranda asked, stroking Belle’s burning hands. “Surely you understand that while I have my own line, She is still my Master. Are you asking me to… “
“Tell your Servant to get that dagger out of my side,” interrupted Belle, her voices strained from the pain. “If he draws blood then I agree, things will get very ugly, very fast-“
“That warning is entirely too late.” Miranda sneered in derision as she looked at the various fashion failures. Miranda released a big sigh while moving at the same time. In a blink she was standing behind Belle Morte holding the 2 little “demons” Musette’s lil’ torturers-- 2 feet off the ground. She threw them across the room, watching with some satisfaction as they hit the fireplace.
Hmmm, no fire? She’d have to fix that. Nigel, Miranda mind called, it’s feeling a little chilly in here, would you start a fire? Flames began to lick outwards, caressing any vampires nearby, their screams piercing the air. In the meantime, Belle attempted to unleash her Animal to Call: big cats - including Serena.
With sudden insight, Miranda knew that if she would not acquiesce to joining the Council, they would try to kill her. If Serena fully changed under Belle’s ‘calling’ she’d be forced to do her bidding. Striped white fur started to spill over her skin, but Miranda exerted her own power, slowing the Change. Serena’s back bowed under the strain. She raised her head towards Miranda, searching out her eyes: Miranda minutely nodded before Serena smoothly flowed to her feet, picking up a heavy chair to throw at Padma’s head.
While this usually presented no problem for Padma, he was preoccupied fending off the attack from Emily, and so did not see the chair’s trajectory. Emily, who was standing almost 7feet tall, with shockingly white fur spilling down her back and black around her hands and ears. Emily, whose yellow wolf-eyes were made that much more eerie by her unnatural coloring. Emily, who was currently forcing Padma to kneel as he tried to keep her deadly claws at bay.
The only reason he hadn’t been able to Call her was because of Miranda’s Power holding him at bay. He started to roll onto his back to flip Emily over before he was brutally hit in the side by a flying heavy chair.
It took his concentration off all the Weres he was trying to control, but more importantly it gave Emily an opportunity to move her snapping jaws with dripping saliva towards his chest. You could almost hear a wet, tearing, sound, as her teeth bit into the muscle of his right breast. Blood splattered over her white fur making it look grisly. Teeth tore away at skin and he began to scream once he realized they were puncturing his organs. The pain was excruciating!
A few feet away, Nigel was having a bit more problem. His suit was ruined, shredded from the talons on Antonio’s hands. Antonio was almost as old as Nigel, only he was a hulking, menacing, 6’8, Master vampire. Which put them on more even ground. Plus Antonio didn’t really care for Nigel after Nigel had thwarted his advances - Antonio only played ‘tough’ and others often found themselves needing some kind of medical treatment afterwards, if not outright burial upon a night in his “tender care.” Nigel thought he was crass and conveyed that to him-apparently he still held a grudge.
Nigel was able to bend backwards almost supernaturally to avoid another punch. Christ! Getting punched by him was like getting hit by a block of cement! He rolled, then swept a leg behind’s Antonio’s and as he fell, Nigel furiously looked around before quickly scampering over towards the fireplace. Punching a piece of marble, Nigel quickly stepped back, swung around to bring full force his hand with the marble rock towards Antonio’s unguarded head. The thud echoed around the room.
Giving a roar, Antonio leaped forward only to be hindered by a leaping Jaqueline?! She began rotting all over his head - which Vampire or not-would make anyone distracted. He saw Antonio reach up towards Jaqueline, grabbing her shoulders to pull her off. Nigel blurred forward, faster than any human eye, and sank his talon-like fingers into Antonio’s chest.
Miranda’s nails became dagger-like as she fully unleashed her Power. The smell of rain and thunderstorms perfumed the air. The growing Darkness continued, and anyone caught in its path suddenly felt as if they couldn’t breathe, as if their powers were weakened and drained away.
Miranda nodded at Roy and he too, fully unleashed his beast. His incisors grew down to his chin, his eyes turned golden with a glowing red ring around the irises and his pointed ears complimented his growing snout and powerful jaws. Two wicked looking swords appeared in each of his hands with one already slashing upwards through one of Padma’s underlings. Intestines spilled out and the blood sprayed both Miranda and Belle. The disemboweled body screeched, even though its mouth no longer had lips from it ‘rotting’ away. His nails lengthened into rat-like claws even as he jumped over Belle and Miranda to take out one of Padma’s were-lions.
Miranda and Belle Morte were actually frozen in horrific tableau as each tried to out-do the other in Power. Belle with her Ardeur and Miranda with the Darkness. The weaker Weres and Vampires around the room had fallen to the ground with both of their Powers unleashed, bleeding through their ears and noses, even the vampires sweated blood, unable to fight back.
“STOP!”
Mr. Oliver: The Traveler used his power to echo his voice over the fighting. All fighting froze in surprise, “that is ENOUGH!”
“Monsieur Nigel, Mademoiselle Emily, Daywalker, you’ve gotten your pound of flesh. Belle Morte, you’ve ‘tested’ them and lost - again.”
Belle Morte looked at him with her glowing golden-brown eyes, “How dare you -“
“I dare because I will finish it! Let them go or there will be no one left. Do you think these Servants are the only ones I’ve brought to the soiree?” Mr. Oliver stood, preparing to leave.
“I knew something like this might occur, and in the interest of fairness, if you are looking for a battle than make it official or we will come to an unpleasant conclusion here.”
“I know that I may not be the most powerful here, but I’ve been preparing for the eventuality that you would not be satisfied.” Mr. Oliver nodded at Belle Morte, the Miranda, before continuing out the door, leaving behind everyone to pick up the fragments.
***
Miranda stood looking out over the New York skyline, after office hours, mulling over the events of the meeting. The political consequences of her actions were not lost on her. She’d stirred up a hornet’s nest of the most powerful vampires in Europe, and Miranda knew she could ill afford to miscalculate her next steps. The last thing she needed were distractions, and yet, distracted she was. The dreams had started up again. Who was that young woman from the hotel lobby in Chicago, and why a few years later did she still feature so prominently in her dreams?
She sometimes still wished she’d given into the urge to glide over to that woman so that she could run her fingers through those chocolate brown waves. And those lips were too succulent to be left unattended for long. She imagined them pressing up against her throat, or nibbling on another part of her body. Despite her appalling fashion sense, she wondered what the girl would look like in a red Valentino. She could still remember every little detail about her - even years later. It was… unsettling. Like so much of her life had become unsettling.
She sighed and brought an elegant hand up to rub the bridge of her nose - what to do next? Well certainly it meant a visit to St. Louis sooner rather than later. She really hoped these next steps did not include waking her Maker: Marmee Noir. Waking the Mother of All Darkness was something she wished dearly to avoid.
***
Chapter 5b
Back in Los Angeles
Doyle, Princess Meredith’s Captain of the guard and consort, suddenly gasped, startled awake by that dream. He sat up panting, trying not to wake Merry. The… girl. This was the not the first time he’d dreamt of the girl. He looked up towards the doorway - “You’ve had them too,” came a solemn whisper from the pale-haired figure.
“You mean I am not the only one?” asked Doyle as he gently extracted himself from a pale arm wrapped around his middle without the disturbing the woman.
“No, Sholto has had the dreams about the girl as well. What do you think it means?” Mistral, the Storm King and Princess Meredith’s other consort, followed Doyle out of the room, but not before gently closing the door.
“Have you told Merry?” Doyle asked.
“No, I think it’s time to find out what these dreams mean and why we are having them.” Doyle hadn’t admitted that ‘the girl’ felt… familiar and that upon waking from the dreams he often felt empty. The Sidhe often had prophetic dreams, the fact that the other Fathers were having dreams about the same ‘girl’ made it even more disturbing.
“What do you think it means - I mean who is she?” asked Mistral.
“I don’t know,” said Doyle, “but I think it is time we spoke to the other Fathers.” The fact that they were all Fathers made them more connected ---linked, and Doyle knew, instinctively, that all five of them were involved in the dreams.
Once bodyguards to Princess Meredith, the five former guards had impregnated the princess with twins and now ruled by her side as her consorts. It had been a phenomenon. Five fathers, two children. The courts had been thrown into a frenzy at the news, but however much the Fey wished to deny it, Princess Meredith was now the official heir to Queen Andais and the Unseelie throne. And these five men, Doyle knew, would do anything for their princess.
“Do you think this has to do with Frost?” asked Mistral.
Doyle thought about the possibility. Frost, after all, had been one of the fathers, though he no longer existed in his natural form. Frost had been sacrificed in their final battle against Prince Cel (Princess Meredith’s rival for the throne) and had been turned into a Stag. No one knew where he’d gone since.
“Father?” Doyle glanced down as his son, Darius, broke in to his reverie. “Are you talking about the girl?” Darius greatly resembled his father Doyle. Skin tone a beautiful onyx with tri-colored light, dark and cerulean blue eyes, he was a favorite among the human press and feared among his own kind-his resemblance to Doyle, the Queen’s Darkness, unnerved many. Lately he’d been staying at the Mound to keep tabs on court intrigue, and had just arrived home looking slightly disheveled.
His brother Aiden, was the complete opposite of him; introverted and studious. Resembling Mistral with pale coloring similar to a cloud-storm, he found facts and sciences comforting. Doyle loved them both dearly.
Mistral grinned. “Maybe. How was the flight?” Like Doyle he hated traveling by plane.
Darius sighed. “I wish I had a bit of your Powers father, then I could ride the wind instead of feeling like a ship in a storm. Anyways, I’ve seen that same girl in my dreams since I was a teenager. I thought she might have been a girl I had a crush on, but she kept re-appearing -“
”Why didn’t you tell us?” Doyle asked, as he walked closer to his son.
“Because I thought I was the only one… why?” Darius narrowed his eyes. “What’s going on?” Both of their sons were very aware of court intrigue and why their Family chose to live here in Los Angeles instead of the Mound.
“Well nothing happens by coincidence when dealing with the Fey - it’s time to figure out who this girl is and perhaps find her. Chances are, if we’re having these dreams others -namely our enemies, might know of her, which means she’s in danger.”
“Should we tell Merry -“ began Mistral.
”Not yet, let me find out more information.” The feeling of premonition was growing stronger and with a look of determination, Doyle began walking back towards the bedroom. It was his turn tonight to sleep with Merry, which reminded him that he hadn’t bothered to put on a robe to cover his naked form. But the Sidhe didn’t have the same hang-ups that humans had around sex and nudity.
“Father, why do I feel as if I should know her?” Darius looked bemused as he gestured toward both his fathers. Mistral and Doyle shared a look.