Tuesday, October 4, 2011

Sunset Coven 17

Not edited, but that's nothing new. Kinda had a problem writing this. It reads weird, but I think I got back into it towards the end.

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River gently laid Toren down on his bed. It took longer to get him there because Toren insisted that the people did not see him in such a state, and he had to sneak through the dark tunnels, masking their scent. He didn’t want them to worry or for them to strike out while he was predisposed. River didn’t agree with that outlook. If it were up to him, he would inform the clans and their alliances. The more people who knew the better their chances would be at finding the witch and the vampire.

Toren laid on his front, his raw back exposed.
“I’ll send for Taliah,” River said. Taliah was a nurse in the mortal world and one of the healers in the nest.
“No,” Toren said. “Don’t send for anyone. I’m fine.”
“No you aren’t.”
“No,” Toren’s voice was that of the warlord, not a friend.

River sighed, resigned. He was completely fed up with all this. Since they first ran into the witch back at Jack’s, Toren’s view and judgment had been clouded. River found his friend and leader too focus on wooing the spring chicken and not on saving their nest.

He wasn’t against Toren having some fun with a woman, but it should wait until after the nest was saved. Besides, Suri was just a kid. A dead kid once he got his hands on her. He stared at Toren’s back.

“You should really have that looked it.”
“It’ll heal,” Toren replied. “Eventually.”
“When I find that witch, I’m-“
Toren was up on his feet and in River’s face within a blank of an eye. “You. Will. Not. Harm. Her,” his voice a strict command that reminded River that despite Toren’s weakened state, he could still defend what need be.

River huffed, not happy at being denied vengeance. He held Toren’s eyes, which were glowing, until he turned away, dropping the challenge of strength between them. Damaged as he was, Toren still was the more dominate. But, that didn’t mean he would keep quiet. “Is she worth the lives and future of the clan?”

“How you constantly put the two into the same category baffles me, River.” Toren’s eyes started to fade. He sat, grimaced, and then eased down more smoothly. “Let me tell you this one final time. I never forget my duty is to my people first.”

River pressed his thumb and index finger to his eyes. “Fine. Then tell me what you’re going to do now.” He dropped his hand and looked at Toren. “You had a deal with the wolves, but that broke when your witch went dark. Which brings me to another point. We haven’t heard from the wolves yet. That’s odd. I expected the Alpha and his mate would have sought you immediately.”

Toren had also found it odd that Amor and Eva hadn’t cornered him yet, but he had been out of the nest lately. They could have called for him while he was out. “Go check with Joslyn to see if there are any messages.” River turned to leave. “But whatever you do, DON’T tell her where I am. The last thing I want is for her to see me like this. Don’t even breathe my name. Go shower and throw those clothes out first so she doesn’t scent you. Maybe roll around in the mud as well.” At River’s quirked brow, Toren waved a hand in the space between them. “You’re right. Forget that idea. Just wait. Don’t go near Jos. Leave the nest and call from somewhere far away. Yeah. Do that,” he said, because Warlord or not, there were people even Toren would like to avoid, and his sister was one of them. He loved her dearly, but she could be a bit overbearing. Too bad she was one of the strongest in the nest. Whenever he and River were absent for extended periods of time, it was Joslyn who lead the clan. If she saw him damaged and ruined like this, she’d somehow get it out of him, and if he didn’t talk (he wouldn’t) River would likely tell what happened, and if River told what happened that would require explaining what went down between him, Suri, and the leech. That would be no problem if it were any other person, but Joslyn and the Jime…he shook his head. Bad combination. Dangerous pairing.

No. He’d have River check for messages and give Jos as brief report of what’s going on. He didn’t want his clan on edge, ready to rips heads off, or worrying about their future, but he wouldn’t leave them in the dark entirely, because despite his messy relationship with his witch, his clan came first. Always would.


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She couldn’t sleep. The darkness cloaked her dreams whenever her eyes closed. The dark dreams started only a weak ago while Sage had been searching for their daughter. She hasn’t mentioned the dreams to him. She had mentioned them to her dad who had talked to the medicine man. They drafted a potion that would keep her seer abilities at bay while she slept, but it hadn’t work. The darkness was always there, clinging to Suri. She lost her husband to it centuries ago. She wouldn’t lose her daughter as well. Oh, how she prayed to the spirits that her dream was wrong.

Angelica looked at the sleeping body beside her. He rested peacefully tonight. Too peacefully in fact. He slept like a log while she stewed in her own worry over their daughter, the daughter he drove off, the daughter she missed dearly and hadn’t so much as heard a word from for a year, the daughter cloaked in darkness. She pulled her knees up, positioning them midway. She kicked, hard, sending Sage off the bed crashing to the floor with a loud thump. "FIND MY DAUGHTER!"


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Her life was spiraling down a path she wasn’t sure when she stepped on. She destroyed him. Those glorious scales of his. How many had she plucked? How had she let the darkness take over to…

No. Suri couldn’t blame what happened on the darkness. Not entirely. She was conscious. She knew what she had been doing, and she enjoyed it, inflicting pain on the one who had caused her so much hurt. Her back still burned. Suri wanted revenge and gladly let the darkness help seek it. Now, if she acted without the influence, would she have plucked his scales like guitar strings? No. Hell no. No doubt she would have made him suffer, but she would have choose another form of punishment. Maybe. They did need scales for the list-quest-mission-thing after all.

She smacked her palm to her face. Then again. And once more. She vividly remembered the first time she had ever saw his.

They had gone down to the bayou. She and Jime dropped by to crash a party thrown by a bunch of berserkers at one of Jack's bars. Or, Jime wanted to crash. Suri wanted nothing to do with the overly muscled heathens.

Apparently, they weren’t the only ones who decided to crash. A few Unseelie fey, shifters, wolves, and dragons had been there. Jime blended in instantly, jumping straight in, frolicking with the many men, and doing something Suri will never ever allow her mind to recall. In fact, she wiped the memory, so she no longer remembered exactly what Jime had been doing, just that it was something she didn’t want to remember.

Suri slipped out. She never liked the whole crowd-party scene. Being around so many creatures of the lore after spending twenty-three years of her life in small settings, she felt cramped. She disappeared deep into the bayou, miles from any of the party-goers. At least that’s what she thought.

Not two-hundred feet ahead, she saw a fire glowing, heard rough rowdy voices, bodies smacking. Oh, goody. A stupid brawl. When she got close enough, she noticed it wasn’t just a brawl, but a bet. Organized fighting. She kept her distance, but spied the fighters, the audience, and put out feelers to see if there were other’s lurking. She kept her eyes in the circle on the fighters. One was tall, at least seven and a half feet, his skin so dark, black seemed too light. His eyes were pearl white, so were his teeth, a stalk contrast against dark sweat glistening skin. He was heaving, winded from the fight. His opponent was also tall but in normal standards, six-feet, maybe a few inches taller. He was muscled and fit, biceps and abs rippling across sun kissed skin. Dark hair stuck to his forehead with sweat, and trickled down his face, a mix of Asian and something…old. Meso. He was angled away from the tall guy, a bogey Suri thought. They circle each other. A flicker against the fire. Suri squint her eyes. Scales. Glorious bluish-green scales the flowed from the top of his neck down to below his waistline like island waters on a sunny day. It almost hurt to look at them. Dragon.  She knew who he was because his scales were rumored to be the most hypnotic and seductive of all dragons. They called him River.

They lunged at each other and then…it was over. Just like that. The bogey’s face was smashed between wet earth and the boot of the dragon. It happened so quickly Suri almost missed it. Damn he was good.

“No use hiding way back here,” a voice spoke from behind. Suri didn’t jump in surprise. That would show that she hadn’t been paying attention, a weakness. One didn’t display weakness around others who would some day use it against them. She batted her eyes in a slow lazy movement. “All who venture out to this area are automatically entered into the competition.

“Wh-wha-what?” Suri sputtered. That certainly caught her attention. What the hell did he mean automatically entered in the competition? She wasn’t enrolling in anything. She certainly planned to tell him that, but when he grabbed her arm and pulled her into the clearing where the other’s stood as if he was flicking a feather, she found herself momentarily speechless. Later, she learned his name was Rex, a troll in charge of ushering all stragglers who sought to watch the competition but too coward to fight.

“Well, well, well. Who’s this?” one of the berserkers spoke.
“A girl. Haven’t had a girl join the fight since Lenny killed that one harpy seventy years or so ago. Ain’t that right Lenny?”
“Aye.”
“She’s just a baby.”
“Looks mortal.”
“Let me fight her.”
They all spoke.
“Why not. Let Flacko have at her.”
“What’d you say, little girl?” Flacko, a goblin if she judged by his stench, said with a fang-full grin.
Having quickly regained her composure now that she was surrounded by so many…other’s, she stared Flacko down, bored by the way they all diminished her because she was 1.) a girl, 2.) small, and 3.) mortal-looking. They all thought to make a spectacle out of her, toy around for a bit before getting serious and really harming her. She didn’t even want to think about what a goblin would try to do after that. It totally pissed her off. She thought these guys would know better than to judge someone by their size and sex. Didn’t think know who Jime was? Jime would destroy them all without breaking a nail, probably while filing her nails. The first thing Jime had told her when they set off on their adventure four months prior was to never let any put her down, no matter how small it was. In fact, she suggested blowing up over the small things, that way everyone would be deterred from trying being stunts.

“I’ll say you’re going to lose that filthy little spiked tongue of yours really soon if you ever call me a little girl again, you ugly beast,” she spat.
A mixture of laughs, growls, curses, and taunts exploded from the thirty or so guys that stood in the clearing. From the corner of her eye, she saw the bogey picking himself up off the ground, the dragon pulling his shirt on.

“Is that so?” the goblin hissed in Suri’s face. Apparently, her strike out hadn’t deterred him. It only made him more eager.
“Funny how you’re so energetic and pumped to fight a female half your size, Flunko, when you wouldn’t pipe up at any of the other challenges.”

Suri turned to look at the speaker. Another dragon. He stood beside River, a spitting image of Park Shi Hoo, only much more deadly in appearance. But that could have been a simple trick of light, because when Flacko gave him the one-finger salute, he laughed and grinned so hard, a boyish laugh, a charming smile. Definitely a light trick.

“What’s it to you?” Flacko said.
“Why fight the female? Why not me?” Toren walked from the side over to where they stood. He stopped behind Suri. “Challenge me.”
“Defending the female?” Flacko said.
“No one defends me,” Suri said. She glared at both men. “If you want to fight, then we-“
“I challenge your challenge,” Toren cut Suri off and spoke to Flacko. He looked around the circle of men. “That’s okay boy’s? I’ve been waiting all night for a go.”

There were a few grumbles, but eventually the guy’s agreed, okaying the challenge of the challenge. Suri wasn’t really sure how that worked. She didn’t care either.

Flacko backed away, stepping into the battle circle that acted an the make-shift ring. The Dragon with the boyish charm stepped around to face her.
“What the hell? I don’t need you, whoever you are, fighting for me? I can do so myself.”
He looked down at her, his clear eyes focused. “I have no doubt about that little witch,” he grinned cheekily when she eyed him wearily.  “Yeah, I know what you are.”
“I don’t care. Don-“
“Don’t deny me this.” He reached for the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head. He tossed the shirt over to River. Leaning down until they were eye level, he smiled. “I’ve wanted to rip that filthy spiked tongue from the ugly beast for a long time now. It’s not fair that you just show up and get the opportunity just because you’re so beautiful.”

Suri rolled her eyes while fighting a blush. Usually she would have brushed the comment aside, made a snarky response at the attempt of flirting, or slapped the guy for such a weak line. But with him so close, and his eyes so sincere, even if they were glowing with glee, she could only roll her eyes and turn away. “Sure. Sure. Whatever. Don’t bust your balls at it.”

He laughed, a whisper of power shifting over her skin. “Thanks.” He started for the circle.
She spun around so fast mud kicked up. No way that guy was the warlord. His back was towards her as he walked to the circle, and she knew the rumors weren’t true. Toren’s scales of black, jade, and gold, were more spectacular than anything she’d even seen. Even River’s. Dear lord but they were gorgeous. 

Feeling her eyes on him, he looked over his shoulder. “By the way, the names Toren.”
“Suri,” she replied.

She stayed at that fighting circle that night, not just to watch Toren, although that was part of the reason, but mainly because not much longer after he ripped through Flacko the Flunko, Jime showed up. Then ---

Suri snapped out of her daydream when she felt a trickle of magic hit the feeler she set out. Jime’s magic. Jack’s as well, and a low rumble that told her they were heading for her, fast, much faster than when she ever drove ‘ol Jack. She looked around. How the hell had they found her so fast? She looked left, right, behind her, but nothing. A shiver went down her spine. She looked up. “Aw, what the fuck?” she said in disbelief when she spot Jack the mustang. FLYING. She didn’t have time to stand there in awe. She had to get away. She wouldn’t let them catch her. Jime would be pissed and the repercussions for using dark magic again would be terrible. And Jack had an alliance with the dragons, which mean the Dragon’s would arrive at any moment. “Fil amo,” she said and teleported away.


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“God damnit.” Jime beat her hands against the dashboard.
“Stop beating my car,” Jack snapped.
“It’s all your fault. I told you to park and go in quietly. Now she’s going who knows where.” She beat the dashboard in anger again.
“Oh shut up. Honey-boo can follow her. Now stopped beating her.”
“It’s a HIM, Jack,” she snapped. Her fangs elongated at that stupid pet name. Honey-boo. He never called her honey boo. Stupid ex-god. Screw him and his stupid car. Angry, but not sure how to unleash it, she took it out on Jack. She shoved him, hard, into the car door, his head smacking into the window. That felt a little better. Teasing Jack always made her feel be—Her head slapped the passenger window. Jack shoved her back. A knot formed on her tumble instantly. Slowly, she turned murderous eyes on her assailant. She hissed and flung across the space between them.