Gorram Doll 6
Title: Gorram Doll (6/?)
Series: The Powers that be
Author: Romanceguru
Disclaimer: Joss the boss of me.
Rating: R for violence.
Fandom: Firefly/Angel
Characters/pairing: Marcus/River
Warning: Possibly very dark and disturbing
Summary: Marcus arranges a situation he’s sure will help reestablish his control over River.
Notes: 2 Weeks have past since chapter 5, 3 Months total since Marcus "rescued" River from the academy. Betaed by elsibet34!
Parts 1-5 at my stories links page, here
Marcus listened at his door a moment before raising his hand and knocking brashly, the solid oak trembling under the sheer force. When continued silence was his only reply, he went ahead and entered the room to find the girl still fast asleep. She was curled up in a little ball, barely discernable under a sea of linen.
Walking over to window situated above the bed, he raised the blinds, allowing the sun to stream in harshly. White-hot rays pierced the cool, dim space illuminating the room. “Rise and shine, Sleeping beauty. It‘s nearly noon.” He announced brightly.
River stirred and scrunched up her face, groaning as she peeked one eye open at the chipper demon. He was dressed in neatly pressed black Armani, the sunshine causing him to glow like some sort of dark angel. “Thought you were opposed to light.” She grumbled.
Marcus smiled as he noticed the dark circles under the girl’s eyes and clasped his hands together. “If it makes you miserable, that’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make.” He knew the nightmares were keeping her awake again, sleep finding her around dawn if she were lucky. The poor thing was suffering, and he was enjoying every minute of it.
River pulled the blanket over her head, the thick comforter muffling her small voice as she spoke. “Wake me when the circus comes.”
“Funny you should mention it.” Marcus responded as he walked over to her closet and opened it, scanning the selection. Deciding on a long, red taffeta ball gown, he pulled it out and hung it on the door. “We’re having a dinner party tonight. There are some colleagues of mine that are just dying to meet you.”
River peeked her head out curiously, a nervous whirl filling her stomach. “Ones like you.”
Marcus noted the beginnings of apprehension and moved to sit next to River on the bed, placing his hand on what felt like a hip. “Don’t worry, I’ve asked them to play nice.” Rubbing his hand in a soothing manner up her side, he added an addendum to his reassurance. “Although, our nice would substitute as a decent nightmare for you.”
River sat up and backed away from his artificial stroke, pressing herself against the headboard. “No. Not ready for socialization. Fraternization. They are the enemy.”
Marcus cracked an all-knowing smile. “They’re really not the ones you should be worrying about.”
“Not mine. Yours.” River whispered, her eyes darting again as things she couldn‘t possibly understand tumbled from her lips.
“What was that?” Marcus queried distractedly, brushing the lint from his coat sleeve. “You know it’s not polite to mumble.”
River’s eyes refocused as she watched Marcus groom himself. “Nothing.”
Picking the last dot of white from his sleeve, he let it drift to the floor before looking at River sternly. “In any case, you can dress in what I picked out for you. The alternative…” Marcus paused for effect. “Is dining in the nude. There’s at least one I know that will appreciate that greatly.”
River paused, contemplating his ultimatum. She knew that he would easily suffer her that humiliation if she refused to comply. Pushing back the blankets, she stood on the bed and held out her arms.
Marcus cocked his eyebrow as he looked up at the girl. “Thought you were resuming self care? I‘m not supposed to see you, remember?”
“Can’t walk before you crawl.” River amended. “Close your eyes.”
Marcus stood and went to retrieve the dress, silently wondering when the girl’s self sufficiency skills were going to kick in, but mostly surprised that he really wasn’t bothered at having to care for her anymore. Resigned it to the fact that he simply liked the busy work, he put it out of his head.
Removing the dress from the hanger, he laid it across the bed before turning his attention to her. As he started to lift her nightgown up, River placed her hands on his, scolding him like a misbehaved child. “Eyes.”
Observing her with professional criticism, Marcus’s voice was stoic as he delivered his assessment. “Your modesty is unwarranted.”
River kept her features devoid of emotion, hiding the sting of his words. She knew Marcus didn’t see her as a woman, desirable or otherwise. She was just skin, bones and a beating heart to him. Her existence was as transparent as she felt, forever fading. Holding her chin straight, she continued to reproach him. “Then, no reason to look.”
Marcus relented and closed his eyes as he dressed her, all the while getting the niggling feeling that the girl was slowly gaining the upper hand on him. Pulling the zipper up, he stepped back. “Permission to look, your highness?” He mocked and then opened them regardless.
The simple strapless top showed of her little shoulders, and the snug fit emphasized her tiny waist before puffing out, the length completely hiding her feet. Pale skin and dark eyes contrasted well with the maroon, the deep color of her lips unifying the ensemble.
River looked down at the dress, contemplatively fingering the rich fabric. It was shiny and smooth. Beautiful. Too pretty for her. She felt like an imposter. “Don’t want to do this.” She confessed as she looked back up into his eyes, pleading with any ounce of hidden compassion the creature might possess.
Marcus held out his hand and she reluctantly took it as he helped her from the bed, responding in a patronizing tone. “If only what you wanted mattered.”
Guiding her into the bathroom, he stood behind her, looking at her through the reflection as he lifted her tangled tresses. “Let’s see if something can’t be done about this.” Grabbing a brush from a drawer, he started on a section.
River observed him with resentment as he prepared her like a show dog. “I’ll embarrass you in front of your friends.” She promised stubbornly.
Marcus smiled as he calmly twisted his hand her hair, giving it three good wraps before yanking her head back firmly, exposing her long, slender neck. “You won’t.” He said self-confidently.
Placing his fingers at her collarbone, he brushed them up over the delicate skin of her neck, lingering on her pulse. As he savored its acceleration, he continued. “Want to know why?” When she didn’t answer, he bent his head down and nuzzled her ear. “I have you on strings.”
River tried to focus as a wave of heat washed over her, breath and feather light touch placating her fury and trepidation. Through the sensation she saw clarity, truth, but most importantly the irony of his statement.
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River peered though the bars of the balcony down to the foyer below as the guests arrived. They walked in human vessels, but their energy was different, blacks and grays that cracked and popped. There was a man that spoke with a British accent accompanied by a blonde with ample curves and manner. The second group to arrive was a pair of dark-haired bloodsuckers and a man with amphibian skin and sharp little teeth.
Nausea flooded her. The room was spinning as a cold sweat pierced her skin. She had seen many bizarre things, horrid images in visions and in nightmares, but this was all too tangible. There was no where to run, no one to shake her awake and tell her that this was all some drug induced hallucination.
Marcus’s voice snapped her from her daze as she bit back the bile fighting it’s way up her throat. He was looking up at her impatiently from below. “River, you’re being rude. Don’t keep our guests waiting.”
River gripped the bars until her knuckles turned white and shook her head vehemently.
Marcus turned to the couples and the demon. “My apologies. I’ll just be a moment.” Gesturing to the dining table, he instructed, “Why don’t you have a seat, Greta will be happy to serve champagne, or blood, whichever you prefer.”
Stalking up the stairs, Marcus reached River and stood above her, hovering like an impatient parent. “I thought we agreed you wouldn’t make this harder on yourself than need be.”
“There was no contract.” River whispered, refusing to look up.
“The choice is yours. I can either drag you, or you can come willingly on my arm. Either way, I win.”
River looked up at the condescension in his eyes. She was yet again pressured, trapped with a pinhole sized hope at escape. It was days like this, the ones when she couldn’t think clear enough to outsmart him that she wanted to curl up into a little ball and disappear forever.
Hesitating a moment longer, she stood with grace and smoothed out her dress, taking Marcus’s extended arm and completing the charade of free will. “That’s more like it.” He affirmed as they made their way down the stairs. “I’d hate to be forced to damage you in front of company. Such pleasures should only be indulged in our private time.”
River ignored him, too preoccupied with the swelling of anxiety, panic threatening to swallow her whole as they neared the dinning hall. She stopped walking and started to drag her feet to slow the inevitable.
“Stop being so skittish.” Marcus chided as he pulled her along. “Exposure to some polite society will do you good. It isn’t normal the way you’re always lurking about, watching the world pass you by. Your antisocial behavior must be curbed. There are many that expect nothing but the very best from you.”
As she tried to twist loose and run back up the stairs, he grabbed her arm firmly and yanked her into the room, roughly sitting her at the end of the long table before making his way to the opposite end.
Situated to River’s right was the blonde, and the Brit nearest to Marcus. On the opposite side were the vampires, the female farthest away, then the male and the scaly thing almost immediately next to her. They had ceased whatever they were doing to turn and look at her as if she were some sort of messiah.
“River, say hello to our guests, please.” Marcus instructed as he shook the fold from his napkin and placed it across his lap.
River placed her hands next to her silverware and glared at him from across the long table, keeping her lips sealed.
Marcus smiled faintly, amused by the hatred burning in River’s eyes. Gesturing to the slightly balding Man on his left, he continued with the formality of introductions. “This is Culverton, he’s been temping for me since, well, you came along.”
Culverton waved from across the table. “Cheerio, River. Never did get a chance to meet you proper. You were sleeping like a babe the day you arrived here.”
River starred at the man impassively. He was outwardly kind, but there were shadows buried within, an greedy imposter lurking underneath plastic smiles.
Culverton cleared his throat uncomfortably under River’s vacant stare. Marcus’s lips curled up in satisfaction. He was almost proud of her.
Putting his arm around the woman next to him, Culverton continued on in a more subdued manner. “Well, anyways, this is Mae, she does our filing.”
“Not to mention you.” Marcus remarked snidely.
“Shut it, Marcus. You’re just jealous I snagged one you couldn’t.”
There was a twinkle in Marcus’s eye as he leaned back, sipping his wine with a smirk.
Culverton’s face dropped as he turned to Mae for conformation. She just shrugged and turned her attention to River, appraising her up and down. “Well, ain’t you a sweet looking thing? All tiny like a bug. Makes me just wanna squash ya and pop you in my mouth.”
River scrunched up her face, her eyebrows lifting at the woman’s ridiculous statement.
Marcus groaned and reminded himself to be more selective of his sexual partners in the future. Looking to the opposite side of the table he finished up the introductions. “This is Drakul and Lilith, they are head of Londinium’s vampire sect. They mostly do pro bono work.”
Raising their glasses, they greeted her with smiles that should have been warm, but they left her feeling cold.
Finally addressing the creature nearest to River, Marcus’s smile grew. “Lastly, we have Cresil. He’s the head of our research department.”
The reptilian was a brilliant scientist but he had a fierce primal side that wasn’t easily masked. There were hundreds of sexual harassment suits originating from his department annually. It was only fitting that River be situated next to him.
The demon leaned into River’s space, relishing in the scent of human flesh. Marcus smiled maliciously as he watched the creature sniff around River, noticing her trembling hands as she fought for composure. Holding up his glass, he took a drink, savoring the rich aroma before commenting. “Coincidentally, he has a fondness for human girls.”
Cresil turned from River, noting aloud his observations, his tongue clicking as he spoke. “Each creature has a distinct scent embedded in their DNA coding. This one’s is especially unique.” Leaning forward, he sniffed her again. “But when one emanates fear, I find it especially arousing.”
River closed her eyes and swallowed hard. Unconsciously, she began to rubbing her thumb along the serrated edge of the knife at her placing, counterbalancing the moment.
Lilith peered curiously at the girl. “Is she a mute?”
“No.” Marcus confirmed.” River is just being willful in an attempt to spite me. It’ll pass.”
Culverton noticed Marcus’s indifference and turned to River. “We’ve heard a lot about you, River. You’re something of a folklore legend. I trust Marcus has kept you in good spirits?” Taking a bite, he continued speaking through a mouth full. “Have you seen anything noteworthy in that head of yours?”
Marcus glared at his former assistant. “Any progress made here is strictly confidential. I know you feel like king of the castle right now, but don’t confuse that with your actual insignificance.”
Culvertion put his hands up in defense. “Calm down now, Marcus. Just an innocent query.”
“I know you better than to believe that.” Marcus sat back, eyeing his former assistant. “How are things holding up anyways? Have you run things into the ground yet?”
As they bickered, River pushed her thumb harder against the jagged edge of the knife until a dull pain warranted her to look down to find she had sliced it deep. The vampires turned towards her as she put her thumb to her lip, longing etched in their dark eyes as they watched her suckle the blood. She knew what they wanted, what they craved, the veil on their impulse weighing thin.
River sat back, idly tending to her wound and glared at them challengingly. A newfound courage coursed through her veins as she broke the silence, her voice laced with a hollow eeriness. “The human body can be drained of blood in 8.6 seconds given adequate vacuuming systems.”
The table erupted into laughter. Not missing a beat, Culverton raised his class to the vampires, who were lingering on her every movement. “ Now, there’s food for thought, eh.”
Lilith cracked a dark smile. “Oh, Marcus, she’s absolutely adorable.” Although, the vampire was sure most of her fondness was due to the bloodlust. The bottled stuff Greta was serving couldn’t quite quench the thirst like the real thing.
Marcus couldn‘t suppress a chuckle at that. “She’s, something, alright.”
River was seething. This was all a big show, one she didn’t want to attend in the first place. He was just like them, draining her of everything, pushing her beyond her limits, crowding her mind when it was already spilling out the top and then parading his accomplishments as if they were worth owning.
The desire to be more than an object for gawking overpowered her as she shrunk back in her chair, away from the thoughts, shouting at her tormenter. “Stupid son of a bitch, dress me up like a gorramn doll!”
Marcus was unfazed as everyone turned to witness the breakdown. “See what I mean? Something. As in a completely psychotic mess.”
“Well, I still think she’s charming.” Lilith confirmed in between a sips of luke-warm blood.
Marcus considered River for a moment as they might see her. She had managed to win them over with her morbid appeal.
Ironically, she did resemble a doll tonight, dark hair piled high, showing off her long graceful neck, ivory skin that could have easily been made of porcelain. Sitting there, he could tell she was eternally broken, her cracks showing through. It was a beautiful sight.
The group continued to chat amongst themselves, mostly about the growing vampire population in Londinium. The dark haired ones proudly spouted their numbers and figures.
River remained sunken in her chair like a rag doll, staring blankly at her untouched food as she quietly muttered to herself, mindlessly twirling a strand of hair that had gotten loose.
Cresil ignored the shoptalk, turning his interest towards the girl. Rising from his seat, he moved behind her and paced, stopping occasionally to drink her in. Marcus looked up with slight interest, making sure to keep his eye on the situation in between conversations, a flicker of unease in the pit of his stomach.
It wasn’t until the thing reached out and ran his clawed fingers wantonly over the girls shoulder that Marcus sat up straighter. A pang of unexpected jealousy seared through him, his eyes burning as he glared across the table. He didn’t appreciate Cresil’s scaly paws on the girl, molesting her in the same manner he had hours before. She wasn’t common property.
Marcus clenched his jaw, keeping his tone even yet powerful. “Cresil, I must ask you to desist in your exploration and return to your seat.” For the first time since knowing her, he saw the girl more as his equal. She was too good for the current company, too special to be corrupted by them. The honor should be his alone.
The creature lifted his face up from River’s neck, pouting. He was just about to taste her when Marcus interrupted. “I thought you said I could play.” He whined, looking back at the girl, a hopeful lust still in his yellow eyes.
River picked her head up and gazed directly at Marcus, wobbly, broken, but aware of the demon’s inference. A small part of her felt betrayed by her caretaker despite there being no reason to believe him loyal.
“Well, I’ve changed my mind.” Marcus announced firmly. “Now take your hands off of her before I remove them completely.” A part of him hoped the demon would challenge his order. It has been too long since he’d had some decent violence.
However, Cresil acquiesced and moped back to his seat, occasionally eyeing River with an unnatural longing.
River looked warily at the demon before slipping completely out of her chair and disappearing under the table. On hands and knees, she crawled across the floor the distance to Marcus.
It wasn’t trust that brought her to him, rather the heat of emotion that rarely surfaced, a light through the dark, beckoning her. Lust, hunger and death filled her head, sucking her into oblivion and she needed to escape before she was lost forever.
When she reached Marcus, she grabbed a hold of his chair and curled her legs under her, resting her head against the side of it, making sure to stay out of sight.
Marcus looked down when he felt something brush up against his leg. He should have been angry at River for her unladylike behavior, crawling around like a lowly dog. Nevertheless, he supposed it was better that she be out of Cresil’s immediate vicinity.
Throughout the remainder of dinner, the mental image of long black claws trailing, touching, and tainting the girl’s flesh nagged at him. More than once he had to still the urge to take her upstairs and scrub her clean, until her skin was fresh and new again.
Unconsciously, Marcus reached down with his left hand to stroke her hair, the soft texture familiar between his fingers, reminding him just how many times he’d brushed it for her. Marcus glared at Cresil, pondering his revenge. He just couldn’t let this one go.
After all, he never did like the idea of others handling his things.
TBC
Next: Prodigy
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