SUE VS SUE
Jun. 17th, 2013 11:38 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
a_sporking_ratIf you're reading this, you obviously have an appreciation for AB spitefics. On that basis, please allow me to point you in the direction of this delicious little gem:
http://eternaleve.wordpress.com/2013/06/16/the-other-blake/
Besides that, the only thing I can think to mention before we get rolling is that there is a "Dev" referred to as being in Anita's harem. We learn in Bullet after Anita screws Mephistopheles (sorry, but you knew that was coming, right?) that his nickname is Devil. I guess 'Dev' at least sounds more normal than 'Meph'? Because I'd totally think the guy was being called 'Meth' and wonder what the story was there...
Anyway. Without further ado...
SUE VS SUE
The young man sat in the plane, fidgeting nervously with with his fingers, which bore multiple rings. These rings were silver, and of archaic design, with symbols etched in them that any witch worth their salt would recognize as magic. This kept their abundance from looking tacky, which was something he wanted to avoid even in a crisis like this. He had other jewelry, both fashionable and arcane, but he didn't intend to use it offensively. He was just hoping it would be enough defense, or, if he was really lucky, wouldn't end up as something he needed at all. St. Louis was known for a place that a fellow could just disappear and never be heard from again if he crossed the people that he was seeking to contact...
Still, he had to try. He had to do more, in fact. If he didn't this entire city was doomed.
The flight was almost three hours. He tried to distract himself, but he hadn't brought any personal items for entertainment like books, seeing as how this was a mission to save the city that he'd embarked on spur-of-the-moment last night when he'd realized it needed saving. Anyway, even if he'd had something, he was too anxious. He'd never had much self-confidence, and his track record suggested this was deserved. How could he think this was a good idea? He should have just called someone...
But who? He had no proof for the human police, and he didn't trust that he could contact Jean-Claude and whoever else needed to know from a distance without it getting intercepted, either psychically or digitally. Coming here in person had seemed the only way to his panicked mind.
It was dark as the plane landed. Good, that meant the city Kiss would be awake. He agonized through the process of getting through the airport with his bags, caught a cab, and urged the driver to head at top speed to Guilty Pleasures.
He hoped that he wouldn't be too late...
***
Narcissus lay sprawled a hotel bed in little else besides his little black scanties and beautiful black heels, his antique ivory Model 102 telephone pressed to the side of his perfect face. He'd started coming by Lucille's hotel to use the line there (though he brought his own phone--he didn't like having THESE conversations on anything else) in order to talk to his darling Asher. The Circus weren't the only ones with hackers; there was a team working on Lucille's side too that had made sure the lines here were totally secure from anything the St. Louis wererats might pick up on.
"She's not quite the savage we thought, you know," he said into the phone, not taking his eyes off his own feet and their shoes. There were a pair obtained at the shoe party, a pair of peeptoe pumps with black lace overlay. The 'she' in question must have known his size (and tastes) in advance from Asher. Speaking of taste, the selections she'd made for herself hadn't been bad either.
"Really quite sophisticated in certain ways--why, whatever do you mean by THAT I'm sure I don't know--she had some interesting ideas for what we could do the next time we meet face to face. Well, actually they were ideas for what she was going to do to her future prisoners of war, but no reason we can't put them to some recreational use too, hmm? How good? Well, lover, let's put it this way...she was brainstorming them with Valentina."
***
Valentina was back at the Circus, and she was thrilled. Lucille had made her such promises, had such plans, and she was going to get to play a part in it all and have fun at last. She was just sorry that she couldn't tell Nick and Damian. If she did, it might get back to Anita. Yes, those two were her friends, the same men who had advocated for her death to Anita. That was why they had done it in the first place. They knew that if Anita thought of it herself, as they knew she would upon seeing Valentina for the first time in awhile (she'd been so CAREFUL to stay out of her sight, too!) it would be a forgone conclusion, as with Haven for whom she'd looked for an excuse to knock off well before his bullet ever found Nathaniel, but if they suggested it, argued for it, Anita would be repelled on principle. Valentina did not know Anita well, did not spend much time around her, but she got the impression that Anita had very few opinions while also being very opinionated, that Anita would take either side of an argument so long as it was wholeheartedly against what someone else was saying, even her sweeties.
Bartolome was wisely avoiding her too. Ever since he'd gotten word about Cynric he'd been scared of what might happen the next time she laid eyes on him. Sure, he liked sex, but he didn't like was the idea of being some necromancer's pet for all eternity with no other lovers allowed to him, not to mention his free will.
Oh but they would have nothing to fear once Lucy had her way...Lucy would let Valentina play all she wanted, Lucy would give her lots of toys...and in the meantime, she had also been so kind as to give her an inoculation so she wasn't getting sick like everyone else was starting to come down with. Not that they knew it yet. It would lie inside them, incubating, growing, showing no symptoms whatsoever even as the disease got stronger and stronger inside them. It wouldn't do, after all, for that to happen just after so many newcomers came in, Jean-Claude wouldn't miss that.
Again, pity she couldn't tell Damian and Nicky about that...
***
Being a part of the Vampire Council entailed certain responsibilities to the vampire race. Mr. Oliver took these responsibilities very seriously, and had since before humanity had even begun to evolve from his kind. Part of these responsibilities included curbing and culling his own species when they got to out of hand in some way, too numerous or too bold. It was cruel, but necessary, and that was the way of the vampire world. Most recently, that had meant opposing the legislation that had made the vampires of America into legal citizens, no longer forcing them to hide in the shadows lest they be killed on sight by their would-be prey. Why? Well, look now what had happened...it was exactly what he had predicted. Letting the predators run amok among the prey without fear on the part of either party had resulted in not only a glut of humans willing to be fed upon, but begging to be turned as well. They got their wishes granted more often than not by some fanged fool, and now there were mounting numbers of foolish, useless vampires that had been turned for no reason, vampires that took food and resources but gave nothing back to their people, vampires who would inevitably make more like themselves.
Back before this catastrophe, humans had been integral in keeping the vampire population strong. People imagined prey animals as helpless things, but they were in fact the biggest danger that predators faced. Wild horses killed cougars, deer fought back against bears, and a single buffalo was a great risk for even a whole pride of lions to attempt at. The difficulty of catching, fighting, and killing prey kept the predator populations at their peak: only the strongest, smartest, and most tenacious could survive. Oliver had always been able to count on humans to hunt down and destroy any vampires that began to act foolishly, to lay waste to villages with wanton slaughter and the like, or who never caught on how to hunt properly or hide well enough in daylight. They kept the population that much more free of fools, and in proper proportion for what resources and prey they required.
Mostly, they did this on their own, in their own understandable self-defense. But once in awhile, Mr. Oliver encountered a situation that required his own hand in it more directly. Anita Blake, back in the day when she still could have been an ally rather than the opposite, had been approached by him for help against Jean-Claude in making vampires illegal vermin once again. She had not been the first worthy human that he had approached in such a way. Many, many times in the course of human history, he had singled out someone who was well-equipped to aid in his goals.
Maureen Garrett-Schmitt was the latest of these. A high-profile lawyer from New York City, the beautiful Maureen was as famed for her anti-vampire beliefs as she was for her intelligence and ruthlessness, not to mention being a dead ringer for Dita Von Teese. Her track record was flawless and terrifying when it came to winning cases and how she did it, as well as the legislation she continually pushed to be passed restricting vampire rights. Her current campaign was centered around two vampire children: one, a random waif found on the streets, the other, her own son.
Simon Garrett, stuck at age sixteen forever after having been turned four years ago as vengeance against his mother. A dissatisfied client, angry she had not been able to get him acquitted, had hired a rogue vampire to snatch him off the streets and make him into what Maureen most hated. But if the goal had been for her to shun her son and cast him out, it hadn't worked. Maureen had seen her baby as the victim (which, to be fair, he was) and she hadn't stopped loving him one iota. It was through Simon's involvement with the supernatural community (minimal as they both tried to keep that) that they had found Delilah, nickname Dolly, a rotter that had been turned at the same age as Simon during, their best guess was from someone who could sense vampire ages, the Victorian Era. Dolly herself couldn't tell them; the girl was mad, albeit harmlessly so, and maintained the delusion that she was a modern human child, presumably to deal with the strain and trauma of immortality. Maureen had adopted her recently, and used both children in her campaigns to illustrate the damage that vampires had done to such innocents.
From all this, Oliver drew that she was not only a clever and powerful bigot, but a rational one. Her hatred was not blind, and in fact it was quite logical. She simply saw vampires for the predators that America had forgotten they were (an incident with fear vampires in her youth, a Traveller-line had told him after a little psychic probe behind her back) and didn't like them walking around unchecked. His point of view exactly. Just as he had expected, Maureen had been more than willing to help bring Anita Blake to justice when he'd revealed just how deep her corruption went in terms of violating both the law and other human beings. The fact that she had a boy in her harem whom she'd recruited at the age that Maureen's own children were (well, looked and acted like they were) gave her a nice personal edge in it to boot. She had vowed to aid them financially (not that Padma and Oliver needed it, but it was a nice gesture of loyalty and commitment on her part) and handle any legal problems that might result from the mess they would have to make in order to clean up St. Louis. Plus, she was also doing a personal favor for Lucille, whom she had come to like very much...
"The Dragon has already given two of her best to Lucille's little circle," said Mr. Oliver. They were seated on either side of a coffee table in a very secure location despite the mundane furniture.
"Astrid and Cefyn," Maureen had met them, and approved heartily of them as both lovers and soldiers.
"Yes. They've been trained warriors for the longest; I believe they will be the best to send against The Wicked Truth."
"Well, as long as they don't end up winning their names," Maureen sipped disapprovingly from a plain white coffee cup, "They might throw the match on purpose if that's a risk."
"Morte D'Amour has pledged allegiance to our cause as well, though any rotters en route have yet to arrive in the States besides Ghislaine, who was already here to begin with of course," Oliver knew better than to ask for aid from Maureen's dear Delilah. She'd be useless anyway, a fragile child no matter how old she got. The same was true of Simon, a weakling of unknown bloodline that Oliver knew already would never achieve Master status. Being the pets of a human woman was all they were good for, and so that was what they would be left as. "The Traveller unfortunately remains neutral, but the member of his line that came to us independently has proved most useful. "
"I'm sure he has," replied Maureen, her tone shutting down Oliver's question before he could even ask it. Cornelius Locke, the Traveller-line in question, linked Lucille and Armel telepathically to Oliver and Padma. Despite the fact that this kept their communications secure, Maureen refused to partake in it and let a vampire into her head. Especially since Cornelius had another psychic talent associated with his maker: Possession. It was all very well and safe for powerful supernaturals like Oliver, Padma, and Lucille to let him in, sure, he could never take over their minds, but a mere mortal like Maureen? She wasn't risking that, ever.
"Belle Morte, of course, we must leave in the dark," continued Oliver. "Jean-Claude is her child, and his empire has become a tribute to her power. She won't want to tear down a symbol of the ardeur's triumph."
"Oliver. I know all this. Stop stalling. You can tell me where the Moroven stands," She knew he was avoiding mention of the fear-line's fountainhead, the fountainhead of her own fear. He didn't want to disturb her. It angered her that he would think her so weak.
"Lucille's reign will bring combat, pain, rage, fear, and death, and so, yes, the Moroven joins the Dragon and the Lover of Death in supporting her.," Oliver admitted.
"And has she sent anyone?"
"One is already among Lucille's lovers. There may be more."
Silence.
"I see then, " said Maureen. She could deal with that just fine. As long as it was kept away from her. She didn't tell that to Oliver though; it was better to make him think, if she could, that she was beyond such simple triggers to her trauma that he could use against her should he decide to. He was a vampire, after all, and she did not forget that just because she liked his ideas, even liked him a bit aside from the bloodsucking.
"And how do things fare in your fair city?" asked Oliver. Maureen had been tasked with continuing to recruit from New York. Of course, she was not much friendlier to the therians than she was to vampires (except swans, since they did not infect others) so she did most of her negotiating via therian go-betweens that cared more about the fact that she paid them than her biases. It helped especially that they didn't tell the other therians who sent them, since helping Maureen or the Vampire Council was not something they'd be inclined towards. Telling them of Lucille and her therian revolution (conveniently not mentioning vampires in her ranks) against Anita the Zoo Queen was much more compelling.
"The tigers, rats, and swans have agreed to send reinforcements once the battle begins, but the wolves, lions, hyenas, and leopards still refuse to get involved."
The rats were a great help, as they had such numbers, but the swans and tigers were the smallest of New York's therian groups. If they were going to take on all the supernaturals of St. Louis, they'd need the larger groups of New York on their side too, even if the St. Louis hyenas were already on their side. Hopefully the St. Louis rats, swans, and maybe even others would change sides too, but still. Unfortunately, the New York therians as a whole had no reason to risk drawing the attention and wrath of St. Louis. Unlike the weretigers, Anita had not become Master of their entire species, just the ones in St. Louis, and that was of no concern for them, and unlike the swans, she had not raped them en masse across the nation. And since there were no similar tales of a Master of Lions/Leopards/etc, nor were they all tied to one single leader like Donovan Reese, they did not see themselves as being in any danger from Anita so long as she never thought to consider they existed. This was the stance taken by therian groups across the nation, hence why there had never been any action taken against Anita nor aid extended to her victims: No one wanted to be noticed by her, lest they be next.
They had used Oliver and Padma to force the therian minorities of New York, the ones so small they didn't have groups, into service, like the snakes and the foxes. Padma, being Master of Beasts, could also be used to do the same to the major therian groups. However, they wanted to avoid that if possible. Firstly, being forced would mean that they would have no loyalty, and in those numbers that would be a problem, presenting too great a risk that they would break free and betray. Secondly, that kind of move would take such a surge of power that it could well be noticed by parties that they didn't want noticing it. All this Maureen and Oliver discussed, and what to do about it, with Padma being part of the conversation as well via being linked to Oliver's mind by Cornelius. They agreed that they would continue to wait for now, and not make push into shove until they had to or when it didn't matter anymore. All that Padma would do for now was exert a subtle influence into the minds of the therian heads to make sure that they would think it a bad idea, if they could think of it at all, to tell anyone in St. Louis anything they knew about this.
"Well, gentlemen, it has been a productive meeting," said Maureen, standing up as the conversation came to a close. "I would love to stay for one of our usual after-planning discussions, Oliver, but I have a very important phone call to make every evening at this time, so if you'll excuse me..."
***
It was all about the waiting game for now. They would use the time it took the disease to incubate in their enemies to continue to recruit from their ranks, rewarding said recruits with a cure once they were let on the little plague secret. Lucille could play the waiting game. She didn't like it, but she was pretty good at it, especially when she knew it would give her a greater advantage. For instance, it gave her time to stockpile weapons, and to raise morale. Well, raise ire. For instance, she'd decided to let Wander and Odette in on what Max had told her about Anita's golden tigers.
Dear Max hadn't thought she should blab that sort of thing around. It was like when someone told you they'd had an abusive family or been the victim of sexual assault; even if they didn't treat it as a big deal when they told you, you sure as hell were obligated to, and keep mum accordingly unless they told you otherwise. That was how Max saw it. But the way Max saw it didn't matter when it came to Lucille. If one of her harem or soldiers knew something and it was going to be useful to her, they would deliver the information one way or another. Either through a slip of the tongue, a twist of fate, a change of heart...the universe just liked to make things convenient for Lucille like that. It had decided she was The Most Important Person, and so things worked out for her, one way or another. After she had a rather rough start, of course, but she hadn't seen it that way. She'd seen it as the perfect start. It was a start that in some ways hadn't been unlike Envy's, in fact.
Not that she shared THAT with Wander and Odette.
"Yes," she'd said, "All of them born and raised as sex slave to be handed over to Blake and her lot."
Wander had reacted exactly as she'd expected, as had Odette. That was why Lucille had told them specifically. Almost anyone, of course, would find the information to be heinous, but these two each had their own history with certain aspects of Envy's story. Odette's was that she was a swanmane from England, and the swanmanes there had been under the control of a vampire for over a hundred years. Odette's family had only escaped this reign by hiding in an abbey for generations, guarded by monks. So the fact that the golden tigers had also been kept by a vampire at every point in their lives as individuals and history as a group raised her ire and empathy. As for Wander, the Rodere that Lucille had plucked her from had a large number of wererats who had been victims of human trafficking. Apparently there had been a single wererat woman among them as they had been smuggled into the US en masse, and when the full moon had hit...well, at least most of the women had survived, though infected, and the rampaging wererat had drawn the authorities, who discovered what was going on, though not, unfortunately, before gunning down the therian.
Wander had not been one of these woman, but she knew them personally now as part of her Rodere, her family, her people, and she knew their stories, and she took a very deep personal declaration of war against anyone who did what had been done to these women...like, for instance, Anita and the Harlequin. In fact, she'd wanted to start that war right then, but, as Lucille had told her, "You can't just go in there and blow the place sky high!"
"An' why the bleedin' 'ell not?!"
"It's big, you'll need Fidget to take the entire place down in one go."
Wander brightened, her smile wide, "So I can then?"
"Not right now. We'll need to give Detty some time with them too, you know," Lucille patted the little blonde ballerina on the head. She was the youngest member of Lucille's harem at only nineteen, not to mention looked even younger than that. Since turning twenty herself, Lucille had never been attracted to a woman who also wasn't at least in her twenties. It was nothing moral, just her preference. Odette, however, had been determined to be the exception to that the moment she'd seen Lucille, and she'd ended up proving herself more than worthy of that status.
She'd planted similar seeds among most of the others too. Things she'd learned about Blake's little empire that would set that particular person off especially, that would drive them on a very intimate level to go through with this should they (or her control over them) ever begin to falter. It had been so much easier than she'd thought to find such tidbits of trivia too, she hadn't had to lie or even exaggerate as much as she'd expected to! In fact, Anita was so awful that Lucille was even getting a little bit of admiration for her...which just made her itch to take her place all the more.
However, she reminded herself, that itch would have to wait to be scratched. Besides, she knew that when the shit hit the fan, she wouldn't have this nice downtime to lounge around styling her hair and waiting for---
The phone rang and she sprang from where she was seated in front of her vanity mirror. There it was. The ringtone she had been waiting for.
"Maureen! How are you, how was your meeting? Mhmm, mhmm..." Her voice was eager, hyper. For once, her mind was not on business. She wanted to get it all out of the way with a few quick soundbites. Maureen, a parent herself, understood, and did just that, promising that Padma and Oliver would have Cornelius mentally send her the more detailed version. With that done, Maureen put someone else on the phone, the person that Lucille really wanted to talk to.
"Hi, Mommy!" rang the high-pitched voice on Maureen's end of the line.
"Thomas!" Lucille gushed, "How's my boy?"
Thomas was her son. He was young, less than ten. She loved him. She really, truly loved him, something she was otherwise incapable of. Lucille only showed anything resembling humanity to children. In fact, she loved them. She gushed over them, and would risk herself only for them, even ones that weren't hers, even ones she didn't know. It was one of her weaknesses, and a great one. One that Oliver and Padma had exploited. After all, while Lucille definitely wanted Anita's power and people, it was good for the Council to have a nice little threat to hold over her head just in case she ever got cold feet at this game. This had the side effect, however, of Lucille planning to get vengeance on the two vampires the second she could for so much as thinking of ever hurting her son.
Lucille's compassion, sympathy, and overpowering maternal love for children lasted until they were twelve. Once they were any older, her mind ceased to see them as children, and anything she had felt for them before simply turned off. They became things to hurt, use, and/or cast aside like everyone else.
But that wouldn't happen with Thomas. Thomas was special. She would love him forever.
And she planned to have forever to love him.
***
The Dark Crown Clan Rodere had accepted Eva better than she accepted. There were those that made insulting jokes and mutterings among themselves, yes, but never when Rafael was nearby, nor Eva herself nor the other three rats she had come with, lest they squeal to Rafael.
Godo, in fact, was openly attracted to her; Dino less openly, but everyone could tell. He tried to cover it up with bigoted jibes, including ones in her presence like none of the rest dared, and he had just about pushed it too far with Rafael when Eva caught him in a side-kick to the stomach, knocking him backwards, shutting him up, and actually intensifying his crush to boot.
"Maybe you don't need me after all," Rafael had laughed when that had happened.
"Well, she's still more woman than Claudia!" one of the rats had said to the others.
"Even Anita is more woman than Claudia!" another returned.
"Only on the outside. On the inside she's a big macho man, remember?" The tone was sneering. Mocking Anita was a major pastime, Eva and the others had found.
"Big macho man who needs his hand held all the time! And cuddling for everything!", the wererats were really going now. "And to be told when to eat like a baby!"
The wererats were not the only ones who had noticed Eva either. Two of Anita's very own precious harem weretigers, Dev and Domino, had both made passes at her on multiple occasions. She didn't so much mind Dom, Eva said, as long as Anita never found out any of her men had so much looked her way, but Dev was being really gross about it and she wanted it to stop.
"I thought I'd just have to defend her from biased assholes," Rafael complained to Richard, the only other leader he really talked to on a personal level besides Donovan, as they walked through the Circus halls. "I wasn't counting on this!"
"Well, she is really cute," said Richard.
"Not you too!" Rafael looked aghast.
"What? She is! I didn't say I was going near her." Richard didn't date within supernatural community. Anita claimed this was because he was trying to be normal and playing human and all of that, but it was actually for the safety of the women he dated, because if he went out with someone who was also a member of the supernatural community, then Anita could get to her.
"Um, if I might make a suggestion?" Hank popped up from around the corner. He had wanted to stay out of sight since he'd gotten here, especially when it came to leaders, but he also wanted to help Eva out. Plus, he knew that he had to contribute in some way to the mission soon or Lucille might want a word with him. This would do both. When Rafael and Richard had both given him nods to go ahead, he continued, "There's a friend I have from another Rodere who's going to be passing through Missouri soon; with your permission, perhaps she could stop by St. Louis to, ah, meet this, uh, Mepha-dev-stophin?"
Both the Wolf and Rat King thought this was a great idea. As soon as he was back in his quarters, Hank rang Wander up through Cornelius:
Hey, uh, Wander? How do you feel about blind dates?
***
Jean-Claude was setting up for the night's business in his office at Guilty Pleasures. He started by reminding his secretary that tomorrow night he would be late or perhaps absent altogether, as he would be having another meeting with the lesser, er, the other leaders about how everything was going for everyone so far. His own causes for concern were thus far minimal. Mainly, he didn't like how the weresnakes seemed to have befriended Melanie, especially Edgar. Sure, it was mainly over shoes, but he didn't like the thought of the lamia having anyone more on her side than on his. The others in the Circus answered to him first, but Edgar was still a wild card, and thus could fall into her deck all too easily. Melanie was a true immortal, and she had proven with Mr. Oliver that she could wait a long time for an opportunity when it came to gaining her freedom. She worked with his little Circus out of gratitude for his Human Servant having killed the Earthmover, but that same Human Servant had also killed her harem, and she'd sworn vengeance. Anita had forgotten that, but Jean-Claude had not, and he kept close watch on his little sideshow's main attraction so that he could catch any sign of a strike before it happened. After all, he couldn't have Anita getting killed until he'd milked everything he could from her...and he'd rather then that the honors not be done by anyone except him.
As for Anita, she'd mostly ignored the existence of the New Yorkers since their meeting, aside from trying to get Klaus's attention almost as much as Narcissus had. About the most interaction she'd had with them was scolding Max about how 'nudity was so not sexual' with wereanimals due to Max's tendecny towards calling out "Booty booty booty rockin' everywhere!" anytime a naked wereanimal passed her by in the Circus. The irony that Max was a wereanimal herself escaped dear Anita, of course, as was the hypocrisy that Jason made similar catcalls to the others on a regular basis in the same situation and Anita never found that to be anything less than endearing.
At least Max could be trusted around Anita, though. Jean-Claude had noticed that Sigmund the Swan Prince was never present without Armel, who seemed compelled to keep him on a short leash, especially when said animator was in the room. The absurdly tall fellow was clearly straining to keep a grip on some very hostile energy, and this did not surprise Jean-Claude at all. Swans were not as submissive as Anita believed; it was only their small numbers compared to those of most other therians that made it safe (at least some of the time) for said other therians to treat swanmanes as prey. It certainly wasn't due to any inherent passivity or weakness on the part of the swans as Anita, ever the victim-blamer, believed. In fact, if you asked Jean-Claude, the only reason swans still survived at all was because they were just so goddamn vicious and hateful little shits in a fight.
All of this would be no problem if the New York Swan Prince was just, as he claimed, here for a visit to learn about the working mechanics of inter-species cooperation and planned to go back to NYC once that was done...but that 'if' was still up in the air. Simply because none of the New Yorkers had done anything to suggest they were up to something didn't mean that they weren't. After all, avoiding any signs of suspicion was exactly what one would do if one was up to something. The fact that he and his people had not yet dug up any dirt on them only mean, in Jean-Claude's opinion, that they needed to dig deeper. Indeed, he'd feel less scrutiny if there were a thing or two to find suspicious. That would be much more normal. This lot, on the other hand, felt safe to the point of contrived. Too good to be true, as the saying went.
He had not even bothered to explain that to Anita, of course. For someone who claimed the levels of dark and worldly cynicism that she did, it always seemed to shock her that there might be lies involved with supernatural politics. At least, she never seemed to see any coming. Then again, she was so rarely lied to, he had noticed, even by those who reasonably should. Another miraculous way in which the universe just seemed to favor ma petite. Another reason for him to keep her alive and among his assets.
Also, he couldn't shake the nagging feeling that one of them had something to do with how a flouncy virago-sleeved violet silk shirt of his had disappeared recently...
"Jean-Claude!" The door to his office was suddenly thrown open. A young man in his late twenties or early thirties stood there with a desperate expression on his face. Behind him, Jean-Claude could see the hands of his secretary futilely trying to restrain the considerably large fellow, who did not even seem to notice the attempts, being both so big and so panicked. "Are you Jean-Claude? I need to see Jean-Claude!"
Jean-Claude could see why the man hadn't been admitted willingly into the club. A golden cross and a silver pentagram both hung from his neck, along with an assortment of other jewelry on his person that Jean-Claude recognized as protective talismans and artifacts. How very curious. Curiouser still was how desperate he was; vampires could smell emotions, and the boy tested genuine to Jean-Claude's fine nose. Boy, man, he couldn't really decide. He did, however, decide to find out what all this was about.
He politely requested that the secretary release the stranger, and to leave them alone. As the secretary dutifully shut the door on the way out, he welcomed the stranger calmly, then assured him he was indeed Jean-Claude, Master of the City of St. Louis. "And who might you be?"
Jean-Claude was many things, but he was not trusting. He had only let the fervent fellow in because he did not sense hostility from him, and so suspected he might actually have something worth telling him. In case he was wrong about the hostility part, however, his hand was already under the desk, fingers curled around a little gun that, though it would not satisfy Anita's penis envy, would get the job done without Jean-Claude needing to go near any of those holy items. He had a hunch that he wouldn't be able to simply roll this lad into submission; he felt of magic, a witch. Like animators, they could be less susceptible to the psychic wiles of a vampire.
He didn't get an answer to his question, just a panicked proclamation, "I've come to warn you! Something awful is in your city, and it might already be too late!"
Hmm. Well, that did sound worth a listen, then.
***
Nan was not the most hugely athletic type even by human standards, but right now she was racing through the hotel halls like a professional sprinter on crack.
The dream she’d just had had given her the biggest rush of panicked adrenaline she’d ever had in her life, and she was using every bit of it to find Lucille, because part of the dream had shown her that it was not the far-off future kind; it would be happening within seconds, if it wasn’t already.
Lucille, having finished her talk with Thomas, was on her way out for some night life, maybe a little shopping. She really needed to a get a cute monogrammed case for her flamethrower, plus pumps to match. One of her favorite things about gaining supernatural abilities was the fact it had improved her balance and agility so much that she could not only run in high heels perfectly well, she could fight in them just fine too. She’d always managed superbly back in her human days, for a human…but ‘for a human’ was a far cry from her skill in stilettos now. And her skill in general, of course, but the stilettos were the most important thing, really. Okay, not MOST important, but definitely in the top ten. It was just such a delight to no longer have to choose between style and comfort. From what she knew of Anita, the same applied…except that Anita clearly lacked any sense of style. Lucille may have only seen her in person once, but that was very clear.
Clear. Nan’s vision had been so clear. Sometimes they weren’t, sometimes they were vague, fuzzy, like a bad film. Or sometimes something would be missing, like images but no sound, or vice versa. This had been about as ambiguous as a bullet to the brain, however, and almost as deadly. She pounded on Lucille’s hotel door and yelled for her, but got no response. She must be elsewhere. Her chest heaving but her speed not yet decreased, Nan set off like a rocket through the halls and floors again.
Lucille didn't need to be as careful about where she went as one might think. Only Anita had seen her face or felt her energy. She could walk right by any other supernatural in the city and they wouldn't know the difference. They had no idea what she looked like, and a charm had been fashioned that would dampen and conceal her energy. If someone could sense anything at all from her, which was doubtful, it would only be the energy of some sort of feline therian, and nothing more specific than that. And Anita never really went anywhere that wasn't the Circus or, on some odd occasion, work, so she'd be easy enough to avoid.
Speaking of energy though...the second she stepped in to the lobby from the elevator, she felt an overpowering wave of it from outside. Supernatural, vampire and several types of therian, and a lot of them. What in the--
"Lucy!" She heard her name screeched at a pitch that could have deafened dogs, and turned to see Nan running down the stairs, looking as if the Devil herself (hey, Lucy felt it was pretty fair, from the existence of herself and Anita, that the Devil must be a woman) were after her. "Lucy, don't go out! Don't open the door! My dream! They're here!"
Lucille didn't need to open the door. It was blasted off its hinges a second later. Needless, since, being a hotel door, it was not locked, but the show of force was the point. Standing there, holding some type of very large gun that had presumably done the job, was Rafael. All around him were the soldiers, guards, and fighters of every major supernatural group in St. Louis.
"Jean-Claude has rescinded his welcome."
***
Character Loan Credits:
Maureen, Simon, Odette, and Hank belong to writtenelision
Astrid, Edgar, and Sigmund belong to cygnusrex
Cefyn belongs to evilgrayson
Wander and Ghislaine belong to wanderingworlds
Nan belongs to Nanoquill
Any other non-canon characters appearing in this chapter are mine!
http://eternaleve.wordpress.com/2013/06/16/the-other-blake/
Besides that, the only thing I can think to mention before we get rolling is that there is a "Dev" referred to as being in Anita's harem. We learn in Bullet after Anita screws Mephistopheles (sorry, but you knew that was coming, right?) that his nickname is Devil. I guess 'Dev' at least sounds more normal than 'Meph'? Because I'd totally think the guy was being called 'Meth' and wonder what the story was there...
Anyway. Without further ado...
SUE VS SUE
The young man sat in the plane, fidgeting nervously with with his fingers, which bore multiple rings. These rings were silver, and of archaic design, with symbols etched in them that any witch worth their salt would recognize as magic. This kept their abundance from looking tacky, which was something he wanted to avoid even in a crisis like this. He had other jewelry, both fashionable and arcane, but he didn't intend to use it offensively. He was just hoping it would be enough defense, or, if he was really lucky, wouldn't end up as something he needed at all. St. Louis was known for a place that a fellow could just disappear and never be heard from again if he crossed the people that he was seeking to contact...
Still, he had to try. He had to do more, in fact. If he didn't this entire city was doomed.
The flight was almost three hours. He tried to distract himself, but he hadn't brought any personal items for entertainment like books, seeing as how this was a mission to save the city that he'd embarked on spur-of-the-moment last night when he'd realized it needed saving. Anyway, even if he'd had something, he was too anxious. He'd never had much self-confidence, and his track record suggested this was deserved. How could he think this was a good idea? He should have just called someone...
But who? He had no proof for the human police, and he didn't trust that he could contact Jean-Claude and whoever else needed to know from a distance without it getting intercepted, either psychically or digitally. Coming here in person had seemed the only way to his panicked mind.
It was dark as the plane landed. Good, that meant the city Kiss would be awake. He agonized through the process of getting through the airport with his bags, caught a cab, and urged the driver to head at top speed to Guilty Pleasures.
He hoped that he wouldn't be too late...
***
Narcissus lay sprawled a hotel bed in little else besides his little black scanties and beautiful black heels, his antique ivory Model 102 telephone pressed to the side of his perfect face. He'd started coming by Lucille's hotel to use the line there (though he brought his own phone--he didn't like having THESE conversations on anything else) in order to talk to his darling Asher. The Circus weren't the only ones with hackers; there was a team working on Lucille's side too that had made sure the lines here were totally secure from anything the St. Louis wererats might pick up on.
"She's not quite the savage we thought, you know," he said into the phone, not taking his eyes off his own feet and their shoes. There were a pair obtained at the shoe party, a pair of peeptoe pumps with black lace overlay. The 'she' in question must have known his size (and tastes) in advance from Asher. Speaking of taste, the selections she'd made for herself hadn't been bad either.
"Really quite sophisticated in certain ways--why, whatever do you mean by THAT I'm sure I don't know--she had some interesting ideas for what we could do the next time we meet face to face. Well, actually they were ideas for what she was going to do to her future prisoners of war, but no reason we can't put them to some recreational use too, hmm? How good? Well, lover, let's put it this way...she was brainstorming them with Valentina."
***
Valentina was back at the Circus, and she was thrilled. Lucille had made her such promises, had such plans, and she was going to get to play a part in it all and have fun at last. She was just sorry that she couldn't tell Nick and Damian. If she did, it might get back to Anita. Yes, those two were her friends, the same men who had advocated for her death to Anita. That was why they had done it in the first place. They knew that if Anita thought of it herself, as they knew she would upon seeing Valentina for the first time in awhile (she'd been so CAREFUL to stay out of her sight, too!) it would be a forgone conclusion, as with Haven for whom she'd looked for an excuse to knock off well before his bullet ever found Nathaniel, but if they suggested it, argued for it, Anita would be repelled on principle. Valentina did not know Anita well, did not spend much time around her, but she got the impression that Anita had very few opinions while also being very opinionated, that Anita would take either side of an argument so long as it was wholeheartedly against what someone else was saying, even her sweeties.
Bartolome was wisely avoiding her too. Ever since he'd gotten word about Cynric he'd been scared of what might happen the next time she laid eyes on him. Sure, he liked sex, but he didn't like was the idea of being some necromancer's pet for all eternity with no other lovers allowed to him, not to mention his free will.
Oh but they would have nothing to fear once Lucy had her way...Lucy would let Valentina play all she wanted, Lucy would give her lots of toys...and in the meantime, she had also been so kind as to give her an inoculation so she wasn't getting sick like everyone else was starting to come down with. Not that they knew it yet. It would lie inside them, incubating, growing, showing no symptoms whatsoever even as the disease got stronger and stronger inside them. It wouldn't do, after all, for that to happen just after so many newcomers came in, Jean-Claude wouldn't miss that.
Again, pity she couldn't tell Damian and Nicky about that...
***
Being a part of the Vampire Council entailed certain responsibilities to the vampire race. Mr. Oliver took these responsibilities very seriously, and had since before humanity had even begun to evolve from his kind. Part of these responsibilities included curbing and culling his own species when they got to out of hand in some way, too numerous or too bold. It was cruel, but necessary, and that was the way of the vampire world. Most recently, that had meant opposing the legislation that had made the vampires of America into legal citizens, no longer forcing them to hide in the shadows lest they be killed on sight by their would-be prey. Why? Well, look now what had happened...it was exactly what he had predicted. Letting the predators run amok among the prey without fear on the part of either party had resulted in not only a glut of humans willing to be fed upon, but begging to be turned as well. They got their wishes granted more often than not by some fanged fool, and now there were mounting numbers of foolish, useless vampires that had been turned for no reason, vampires that took food and resources but gave nothing back to their people, vampires who would inevitably make more like themselves.
Back before this catastrophe, humans had been integral in keeping the vampire population strong. People imagined prey animals as helpless things, but they were in fact the biggest danger that predators faced. Wild horses killed cougars, deer fought back against bears, and a single buffalo was a great risk for even a whole pride of lions to attempt at. The difficulty of catching, fighting, and killing prey kept the predator populations at their peak: only the strongest, smartest, and most tenacious could survive. Oliver had always been able to count on humans to hunt down and destroy any vampires that began to act foolishly, to lay waste to villages with wanton slaughter and the like, or who never caught on how to hunt properly or hide well enough in daylight. They kept the population that much more free of fools, and in proper proportion for what resources and prey they required.
Mostly, they did this on their own, in their own understandable self-defense. But once in awhile, Mr. Oliver encountered a situation that required his own hand in it more directly. Anita Blake, back in the day when she still could have been an ally rather than the opposite, had been approached by him for help against Jean-Claude in making vampires illegal vermin once again. She had not been the first worthy human that he had approached in such a way. Many, many times in the course of human history, he had singled out someone who was well-equipped to aid in his goals.
Maureen Garrett-Schmitt was the latest of these. A high-profile lawyer from New York City, the beautiful Maureen was as famed for her anti-vampire beliefs as she was for her intelligence and ruthlessness, not to mention being a dead ringer for Dita Von Teese. Her track record was flawless and terrifying when it came to winning cases and how she did it, as well as the legislation she continually pushed to be passed restricting vampire rights. Her current campaign was centered around two vampire children: one, a random waif found on the streets, the other, her own son.
Simon Garrett, stuck at age sixteen forever after having been turned four years ago as vengeance against his mother. A dissatisfied client, angry she had not been able to get him acquitted, had hired a rogue vampire to snatch him off the streets and make him into what Maureen most hated. But if the goal had been for her to shun her son and cast him out, it hadn't worked. Maureen had seen her baby as the victim (which, to be fair, he was) and she hadn't stopped loving him one iota. It was through Simon's involvement with the supernatural community (minimal as they both tried to keep that) that they had found Delilah, nickname Dolly, a rotter that had been turned at the same age as Simon during, their best guess was from someone who could sense vampire ages, the Victorian Era. Dolly herself couldn't tell them; the girl was mad, albeit harmlessly so, and maintained the delusion that she was a modern human child, presumably to deal with the strain and trauma of immortality. Maureen had adopted her recently, and used both children in her campaigns to illustrate the damage that vampires had done to such innocents.
From all this, Oliver drew that she was not only a clever and powerful bigot, but a rational one. Her hatred was not blind, and in fact it was quite logical. She simply saw vampires for the predators that America had forgotten they were (an incident with fear vampires in her youth, a Traveller-line had told him after a little psychic probe behind her back) and didn't like them walking around unchecked. His point of view exactly. Just as he had expected, Maureen had been more than willing to help bring Anita Blake to justice when he'd revealed just how deep her corruption went in terms of violating both the law and other human beings. The fact that she had a boy in her harem whom she'd recruited at the age that Maureen's own children were (well, looked and acted like they were) gave her a nice personal edge in it to boot. She had vowed to aid them financially (not that Padma and Oliver needed it, but it was a nice gesture of loyalty and commitment on her part) and handle any legal problems that might result from the mess they would have to make in order to clean up St. Louis. Plus, she was also doing a personal favor for Lucille, whom she had come to like very much...
"The Dragon has already given two of her best to Lucille's little circle," said Mr. Oliver. They were seated on either side of a coffee table in a very secure location despite the mundane furniture.
"Astrid and Cefyn," Maureen had met them, and approved heartily of them as both lovers and soldiers.
"Yes. They've been trained warriors for the longest; I believe they will be the best to send against The Wicked Truth."
"Well, as long as they don't end up winning their names," Maureen sipped disapprovingly from a plain white coffee cup, "They might throw the match on purpose if that's a risk."
"Morte D'Amour has pledged allegiance to our cause as well, though any rotters en route have yet to arrive in the States besides Ghislaine, who was already here to begin with of course," Oliver knew better than to ask for aid from Maureen's dear Delilah. She'd be useless anyway, a fragile child no matter how old she got. The same was true of Simon, a weakling of unknown bloodline that Oliver knew already would never achieve Master status. Being the pets of a human woman was all they were good for, and so that was what they would be left as. "The Traveller unfortunately remains neutral, but the member of his line that came to us independently has proved most useful. "
"I'm sure he has," replied Maureen, her tone shutting down Oliver's question before he could even ask it. Cornelius Locke, the Traveller-line in question, linked Lucille and Armel telepathically to Oliver and Padma. Despite the fact that this kept their communications secure, Maureen refused to partake in it and let a vampire into her head. Especially since Cornelius had another psychic talent associated with his maker: Possession. It was all very well and safe for powerful supernaturals like Oliver, Padma, and Lucille to let him in, sure, he could never take over their minds, but a mere mortal like Maureen? She wasn't risking that, ever.
"Belle Morte, of course, we must leave in the dark," continued Oliver. "Jean-Claude is her child, and his empire has become a tribute to her power. She won't want to tear down a symbol of the ardeur's triumph."
"Oliver. I know all this. Stop stalling. You can tell me where the Moroven stands," She knew he was avoiding mention of the fear-line's fountainhead, the fountainhead of her own fear. He didn't want to disturb her. It angered her that he would think her so weak.
"Lucille's reign will bring combat, pain, rage, fear, and death, and so, yes, the Moroven joins the Dragon and the Lover of Death in supporting her.," Oliver admitted.
"And has she sent anyone?"
"One is already among Lucille's lovers. There may be more."
Silence.
"I see then, " said Maureen. She could deal with that just fine. As long as it was kept away from her. She didn't tell that to Oliver though; it was better to make him think, if she could, that she was beyond such simple triggers to her trauma that he could use against her should he decide to. He was a vampire, after all, and she did not forget that just because she liked his ideas, even liked him a bit aside from the bloodsucking.
"And how do things fare in your fair city?" asked Oliver. Maureen had been tasked with continuing to recruit from New York. Of course, she was not much friendlier to the therians than she was to vampires (except swans, since they did not infect others) so she did most of her negotiating via therian go-betweens that cared more about the fact that she paid them than her biases. It helped especially that they didn't tell the other therians who sent them, since helping Maureen or the Vampire Council was not something they'd be inclined towards. Telling them of Lucille and her therian revolution (conveniently not mentioning vampires in her ranks) against Anita the Zoo Queen was much more compelling.
"The tigers, rats, and swans have agreed to send reinforcements once the battle begins, but the wolves, lions, hyenas, and leopards still refuse to get involved."
The rats were a great help, as they had such numbers, but the swans and tigers were the smallest of New York's therian groups. If they were going to take on all the supernaturals of St. Louis, they'd need the larger groups of New York on their side too, even if the St. Louis hyenas were already on their side. Hopefully the St. Louis rats, swans, and maybe even others would change sides too, but still. Unfortunately, the New York therians as a whole had no reason to risk drawing the attention and wrath of St. Louis. Unlike the weretigers, Anita had not become Master of their entire species, just the ones in St. Louis, and that was of no concern for them, and unlike the swans, she had not raped them en masse across the nation. And since there were no similar tales of a Master of Lions/Leopards/etc, nor were they all tied to one single leader like Donovan Reese, they did not see themselves as being in any danger from Anita so long as she never thought to consider they existed. This was the stance taken by therian groups across the nation, hence why there had never been any action taken against Anita nor aid extended to her victims: No one wanted to be noticed by her, lest they be next.
They had used Oliver and Padma to force the therian minorities of New York, the ones so small they didn't have groups, into service, like the snakes and the foxes. Padma, being Master of Beasts, could also be used to do the same to the major therian groups. However, they wanted to avoid that if possible. Firstly, being forced would mean that they would have no loyalty, and in those numbers that would be a problem, presenting too great a risk that they would break free and betray. Secondly, that kind of move would take such a surge of power that it could well be noticed by parties that they didn't want noticing it. All this Maureen and Oliver discussed, and what to do about it, with Padma being part of the conversation as well via being linked to Oliver's mind by Cornelius. They agreed that they would continue to wait for now, and not make push into shove until they had to or when it didn't matter anymore. All that Padma would do for now was exert a subtle influence into the minds of the therian heads to make sure that they would think it a bad idea, if they could think of it at all, to tell anyone in St. Louis anything they knew about this.
"Well, gentlemen, it has been a productive meeting," said Maureen, standing up as the conversation came to a close. "I would love to stay for one of our usual after-planning discussions, Oliver, but I have a very important phone call to make every evening at this time, so if you'll excuse me..."
***
It was all about the waiting game for now. They would use the time it took the disease to incubate in their enemies to continue to recruit from their ranks, rewarding said recruits with a cure once they were let on the little plague secret. Lucille could play the waiting game. She didn't like it, but she was pretty good at it, especially when she knew it would give her a greater advantage. For instance, it gave her time to stockpile weapons, and to raise morale. Well, raise ire. For instance, she'd decided to let Wander and Odette in on what Max had told her about Anita's golden tigers.
Dear Max hadn't thought she should blab that sort of thing around. It was like when someone told you they'd had an abusive family or been the victim of sexual assault; even if they didn't treat it as a big deal when they told you, you sure as hell were obligated to, and keep mum accordingly unless they told you otherwise. That was how Max saw it. But the way Max saw it didn't matter when it came to Lucille. If one of her harem or soldiers knew something and it was going to be useful to her, they would deliver the information one way or another. Either through a slip of the tongue, a twist of fate, a change of heart...the universe just liked to make things convenient for Lucille like that. It had decided she was The Most Important Person, and so things worked out for her, one way or another. After she had a rather rough start, of course, but she hadn't seen it that way. She'd seen it as the perfect start. It was a start that in some ways hadn't been unlike Envy's, in fact.
Not that she shared THAT with Wander and Odette.
"Yes," she'd said, "All of them born and raised as sex slave to be handed over to Blake and her lot."
Wander had reacted exactly as she'd expected, as had Odette. That was why Lucille had told them specifically. Almost anyone, of course, would find the information to be heinous, but these two each had their own history with certain aspects of Envy's story. Odette's was that she was a swanmane from England, and the swanmanes there had been under the control of a vampire for over a hundred years. Odette's family had only escaped this reign by hiding in an abbey for generations, guarded by monks. So the fact that the golden tigers had also been kept by a vampire at every point in their lives as individuals and history as a group raised her ire and empathy. As for Wander, the Rodere that Lucille had plucked her from had a large number of wererats who had been victims of human trafficking. Apparently there had been a single wererat woman among them as they had been smuggled into the US en masse, and when the full moon had hit...well, at least most of the women had survived, though infected, and the rampaging wererat had drawn the authorities, who discovered what was going on, though not, unfortunately, before gunning down the therian.
Wander had not been one of these woman, but she knew them personally now as part of her Rodere, her family, her people, and she knew their stories, and she took a very deep personal declaration of war against anyone who did what had been done to these women...like, for instance, Anita and the Harlequin. In fact, she'd wanted to start that war right then, but, as Lucille had told her, "You can't just go in there and blow the place sky high!"
"An' why the bleedin' 'ell not?!"
"It's big, you'll need Fidget to take the entire place down in one go."
Wander brightened, her smile wide, "So I can then?"
"Not right now. We'll need to give Detty some time with them too, you know," Lucille patted the little blonde ballerina on the head. She was the youngest member of Lucille's harem at only nineteen, not to mention looked even younger than that. Since turning twenty herself, Lucille had never been attracted to a woman who also wasn't at least in her twenties. It was nothing moral, just her preference. Odette, however, had been determined to be the exception to that the moment she'd seen Lucille, and she'd ended up proving herself more than worthy of that status.
She'd planted similar seeds among most of the others too. Things she'd learned about Blake's little empire that would set that particular person off especially, that would drive them on a very intimate level to go through with this should they (or her control over them) ever begin to falter. It had been so much easier than she'd thought to find such tidbits of trivia too, she hadn't had to lie or even exaggerate as much as she'd expected to! In fact, Anita was so awful that Lucille was even getting a little bit of admiration for her...which just made her itch to take her place all the more.
However, she reminded herself, that itch would have to wait to be scratched. Besides, she knew that when the shit hit the fan, she wouldn't have this nice downtime to lounge around styling her hair and waiting for---
The phone rang and she sprang from where she was seated in front of her vanity mirror. There it was. The ringtone she had been waiting for.
"Maureen! How are you, how was your meeting? Mhmm, mhmm..." Her voice was eager, hyper. For once, her mind was not on business. She wanted to get it all out of the way with a few quick soundbites. Maureen, a parent herself, understood, and did just that, promising that Padma and Oliver would have Cornelius mentally send her the more detailed version. With that done, Maureen put someone else on the phone, the person that Lucille really wanted to talk to.
"Hi, Mommy!" rang the high-pitched voice on Maureen's end of the line.
"Thomas!" Lucille gushed, "How's my boy?"
Thomas was her son. He was young, less than ten. She loved him. She really, truly loved him, something she was otherwise incapable of. Lucille only showed anything resembling humanity to children. In fact, she loved them. She gushed over them, and would risk herself only for them, even ones that weren't hers, even ones she didn't know. It was one of her weaknesses, and a great one. One that Oliver and Padma had exploited. After all, while Lucille definitely wanted Anita's power and people, it was good for the Council to have a nice little threat to hold over her head just in case she ever got cold feet at this game. This had the side effect, however, of Lucille planning to get vengeance on the two vampires the second she could for so much as thinking of ever hurting her son.
Lucille's compassion, sympathy, and overpowering maternal love for children lasted until they were twelve. Once they were any older, her mind ceased to see them as children, and anything she had felt for them before simply turned off. They became things to hurt, use, and/or cast aside like everyone else.
But that wouldn't happen with Thomas. Thomas was special. She would love him forever.
And she planned to have forever to love him.
***
The Dark Crown Clan Rodere had accepted Eva better than she accepted. There were those that made insulting jokes and mutterings among themselves, yes, but never when Rafael was nearby, nor Eva herself nor the other three rats she had come with, lest they squeal to Rafael.
Godo, in fact, was openly attracted to her; Dino less openly, but everyone could tell. He tried to cover it up with bigoted jibes, including ones in her presence like none of the rest dared, and he had just about pushed it too far with Rafael when Eva caught him in a side-kick to the stomach, knocking him backwards, shutting him up, and actually intensifying his crush to boot.
"Maybe you don't need me after all," Rafael had laughed when that had happened.
"Well, she's still more woman than Claudia!" one of the rats had said to the others.
"Even Anita is more woman than Claudia!" another returned.
"Only on the outside. On the inside she's a big macho man, remember?" The tone was sneering. Mocking Anita was a major pastime, Eva and the others had found.
"Big macho man who needs his hand held all the time! And cuddling for everything!", the wererats were really going now. "And to be told when to eat like a baby!"
The wererats were not the only ones who had noticed Eva either. Two of Anita's very own precious harem weretigers, Dev and Domino, had both made passes at her on multiple occasions. She didn't so much mind Dom, Eva said, as long as Anita never found out any of her men had so much looked her way, but Dev was being really gross about it and she wanted it to stop.
"I thought I'd just have to defend her from biased assholes," Rafael complained to Richard, the only other leader he really talked to on a personal level besides Donovan, as they walked through the Circus halls. "I wasn't counting on this!"
"Well, she is really cute," said Richard.
"Not you too!" Rafael looked aghast.
"What? She is! I didn't say I was going near her." Richard didn't date within supernatural community. Anita claimed this was because he was trying to be normal and playing human and all of that, but it was actually for the safety of the women he dated, because if he went out with someone who was also a member of the supernatural community, then Anita could get to her.
"Um, if I might make a suggestion?" Hank popped up from around the corner. He had wanted to stay out of sight since he'd gotten here, especially when it came to leaders, but he also wanted to help Eva out. Plus, he knew that he had to contribute in some way to the mission soon or Lucille might want a word with him. This would do both. When Rafael and Richard had both given him nods to go ahead, he continued, "There's a friend I have from another Rodere who's going to be passing through Missouri soon; with your permission, perhaps she could stop by St. Louis to, ah, meet this, uh, Mepha-dev-stophin?"
Both the Wolf and Rat King thought this was a great idea. As soon as he was back in his quarters, Hank rang Wander up through Cornelius:
Hey, uh, Wander? How do you feel about blind dates?
***
Jean-Claude was setting up for the night's business in his office at Guilty Pleasures. He started by reminding his secretary that tomorrow night he would be late or perhaps absent altogether, as he would be having another meeting with the lesser, er, the other leaders about how everything was going for everyone so far. His own causes for concern were thus far minimal. Mainly, he didn't like how the weresnakes seemed to have befriended Melanie, especially Edgar. Sure, it was mainly over shoes, but he didn't like the thought of the lamia having anyone more on her side than on his. The others in the Circus answered to him first, but Edgar was still a wild card, and thus could fall into her deck all too easily. Melanie was a true immortal, and she had proven with Mr. Oliver that she could wait a long time for an opportunity when it came to gaining her freedom. She worked with his little Circus out of gratitude for his Human Servant having killed the Earthmover, but that same Human Servant had also killed her harem, and she'd sworn vengeance. Anita had forgotten that, but Jean-Claude had not, and he kept close watch on his little sideshow's main attraction so that he could catch any sign of a strike before it happened. After all, he couldn't have Anita getting killed until he'd milked everything he could from her...and he'd rather then that the honors not be done by anyone except him.
As for Anita, she'd mostly ignored the existence of the New Yorkers since their meeting, aside from trying to get Klaus's attention almost as much as Narcissus had. About the most interaction she'd had with them was scolding Max about how 'nudity was so not sexual' with wereanimals due to Max's tendecny towards calling out "Booty booty booty rockin' everywhere!" anytime a naked wereanimal passed her by in the Circus. The irony that Max was a wereanimal herself escaped dear Anita, of course, as was the hypocrisy that Jason made similar catcalls to the others on a regular basis in the same situation and Anita never found that to be anything less than endearing.
At least Max could be trusted around Anita, though. Jean-Claude had noticed that Sigmund the Swan Prince was never present without Armel, who seemed compelled to keep him on a short leash, especially when said animator was in the room. The absurdly tall fellow was clearly straining to keep a grip on some very hostile energy, and this did not surprise Jean-Claude at all. Swans were not as submissive as Anita believed; it was only their small numbers compared to those of most other therians that made it safe (at least some of the time) for said other therians to treat swanmanes as prey. It certainly wasn't due to any inherent passivity or weakness on the part of the swans as Anita, ever the victim-blamer, believed. In fact, if you asked Jean-Claude, the only reason swans still survived at all was because they were just so goddamn vicious and hateful little shits in a fight.
All of this would be no problem if the New York Swan Prince was just, as he claimed, here for a visit to learn about the working mechanics of inter-species cooperation and planned to go back to NYC once that was done...but that 'if' was still up in the air. Simply because none of the New Yorkers had done anything to suggest they were up to something didn't mean that they weren't. After all, avoiding any signs of suspicion was exactly what one would do if one was up to something. The fact that he and his people had not yet dug up any dirt on them only mean, in Jean-Claude's opinion, that they needed to dig deeper. Indeed, he'd feel less scrutiny if there were a thing or two to find suspicious. That would be much more normal. This lot, on the other hand, felt safe to the point of contrived. Too good to be true, as the saying went.
He had not even bothered to explain that to Anita, of course. For someone who claimed the levels of dark and worldly cynicism that she did, it always seemed to shock her that there might be lies involved with supernatural politics. At least, she never seemed to see any coming. Then again, she was so rarely lied to, he had noticed, even by those who reasonably should. Another miraculous way in which the universe just seemed to favor ma petite. Another reason for him to keep her alive and among his assets.
Also, he couldn't shake the nagging feeling that one of them had something to do with how a flouncy virago-sleeved violet silk shirt of his had disappeared recently...
"Jean-Claude!" The door to his office was suddenly thrown open. A young man in his late twenties or early thirties stood there with a desperate expression on his face. Behind him, Jean-Claude could see the hands of his secretary futilely trying to restrain the considerably large fellow, who did not even seem to notice the attempts, being both so big and so panicked. "Are you Jean-Claude? I need to see Jean-Claude!"
Jean-Claude could see why the man hadn't been admitted willingly into the club. A golden cross and a silver pentagram both hung from his neck, along with an assortment of other jewelry on his person that Jean-Claude recognized as protective talismans and artifacts. How very curious. Curiouser still was how desperate he was; vampires could smell emotions, and the boy tested genuine to Jean-Claude's fine nose. Boy, man, he couldn't really decide. He did, however, decide to find out what all this was about.
He politely requested that the secretary release the stranger, and to leave them alone. As the secretary dutifully shut the door on the way out, he welcomed the stranger calmly, then assured him he was indeed Jean-Claude, Master of the City of St. Louis. "And who might you be?"
Jean-Claude was many things, but he was not trusting. He had only let the fervent fellow in because he did not sense hostility from him, and so suspected he might actually have something worth telling him. In case he was wrong about the hostility part, however, his hand was already under the desk, fingers curled around a little gun that, though it would not satisfy Anita's penis envy, would get the job done without Jean-Claude needing to go near any of those holy items. He had a hunch that he wouldn't be able to simply roll this lad into submission; he felt of magic, a witch. Like animators, they could be less susceptible to the psychic wiles of a vampire.
He didn't get an answer to his question, just a panicked proclamation, "I've come to warn you! Something awful is in your city, and it might already be too late!"
Hmm. Well, that did sound worth a listen, then.
***
Nan was not the most hugely athletic type even by human standards, but right now she was racing through the hotel halls like a professional sprinter on crack.
The dream she’d just had had given her the biggest rush of panicked adrenaline she’d ever had in her life, and she was using every bit of it to find Lucille, because part of the dream had shown her that it was not the far-off future kind; it would be happening within seconds, if it wasn’t already.
Lucille, having finished her talk with Thomas, was on her way out for some night life, maybe a little shopping. She really needed to a get a cute monogrammed case for her flamethrower, plus pumps to match. One of her favorite things about gaining supernatural abilities was the fact it had improved her balance and agility so much that she could not only run in high heels perfectly well, she could fight in them just fine too. She’d always managed superbly back in her human days, for a human…but ‘for a human’ was a far cry from her skill in stilettos now. And her skill in general, of course, but the stilettos were the most important thing, really. Okay, not MOST important, but definitely in the top ten. It was just such a delight to no longer have to choose between style and comfort. From what she knew of Anita, the same applied…except that Anita clearly lacked any sense of style. Lucille may have only seen her in person once, but that was very clear.
Clear. Nan’s vision had been so clear. Sometimes they weren’t, sometimes they were vague, fuzzy, like a bad film. Or sometimes something would be missing, like images but no sound, or vice versa. This had been about as ambiguous as a bullet to the brain, however, and almost as deadly. She pounded on Lucille’s hotel door and yelled for her, but got no response. She must be elsewhere. Her chest heaving but her speed not yet decreased, Nan set off like a rocket through the halls and floors again.
Lucille didn't need to be as careful about where she went as one might think. Only Anita had seen her face or felt her energy. She could walk right by any other supernatural in the city and they wouldn't know the difference. They had no idea what she looked like, and a charm had been fashioned that would dampen and conceal her energy. If someone could sense anything at all from her, which was doubtful, it would only be the energy of some sort of feline therian, and nothing more specific than that. And Anita never really went anywhere that wasn't the Circus or, on some odd occasion, work, so she'd be easy enough to avoid.
Speaking of energy though...the second she stepped in to the lobby from the elevator, she felt an overpowering wave of it from outside. Supernatural, vampire and several types of therian, and a lot of them. What in the--
"Lucy!" She heard her name screeched at a pitch that could have deafened dogs, and turned to see Nan running down the stairs, looking as if the Devil herself (hey, Lucy felt it was pretty fair, from the existence of herself and Anita, that the Devil must be a woman) were after her. "Lucy, don't go out! Don't open the door! My dream! They're here!"
Lucille didn't need to open the door. It was blasted off its hinges a second later. Needless, since, being a hotel door, it was not locked, but the show of force was the point. Standing there, holding some type of very large gun that had presumably done the job, was Rafael. All around him were the soldiers, guards, and fighters of every major supernatural group in St. Louis.
"Jean-Claude has rescinded his welcome."
***
Character Loan Credits:
Maureen, Simon, Odette, and Hank belong to writtenelision
Astrid, Edgar, and Sigmund belong to cygnusrex
Cefyn belongs to evilgrayson
Wander and Ghislaine belong to wanderingworlds
Nan belongs to Nanoquill
Any other non-canon characters appearing in this chapter are mine!
