SUE VS SUE
Jan. 4th, 2014 12:41 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
a_sporking_ratYet another update in which few of the donated characters feature D: Sorry everyone, I really want to get back to them too! Since I have LITERALLY NO IDEA what is gonna happen next though, that means the range is wide open for me to work them in!
SUE VS SUE
Its foundations ravaged by the tremors below and from what water remained in it beating on its walls in the basement, the school crumbled in on itself in flames. Above the wreckage, the skies were black with a great and violent storm that Anita was levitating herself into, using the winds to lift her so that she almost flew. They carried her, her black hair whipping around majestically, her eyes filled with vampire power, away from the destruction she had wrought, away from her victory, and back to her home, to the Circus, where she landed with great fanfare before the entrance. Her people poured out from the door towards her, each and every one of them gushing exclamations and praises at her return, her power, and how damn good she looked especially without the use of makeup and basic hygiene for several days like other girls needed because they were icky and fake and shallow and Anita was just like a guy but hot like a hot girl and that made her perfect.
She then proceeded to suddenly need more energy in order to recharge after such a massive display of power and so needed to feed the ardeur, despite the fact that this power was not related to the ardeur, and an orgy occurred after a great deal of talking that rather contradicted the supposed urgency of said orgy. There was quite a lot of hotness, and wetness, and tightness, and power power power that spilled over everyone...and healed them. The power healed Anita of everything that Lucille had done to her, to Micah and Nathaniel of their mutilations and modifications, and it healed everyone in the Circus of the magical plague that Narcissus had introduced by planting bondage toys there that Mitria, the werearmadillo carrier of said plague, had rolled around on.
In other words, everything was back to normal. And Jean-Claude smiled, believing that it would stay that way.
***
Lucille was not dead. As Anita proved, it took more than bodily destruction to kill things of her ilk. But she was not precisely alive at the moment either. Not in the way that undead are not quite alive, nor like a ghost or spirit, but as a sort of aether, a space between spaces, floating in nothingness and filling the gaps between atoms, completely disassembled, no thought, no feelings, but an awareness, not a singular awareness like a human mind but a blank and spread-out one, vague and impersonal. She was there. Not exactly existent, but there, a sort of potential energy, in stasis, a quintessence with a soul perhaps.
And then she saw, though she had no eyes, a light, bright and cold like the cleanest snow, and stinging just as sharp to the touch, even though she couldn't physically feel, having no physicality. And she felt herself coming back together. Not so much healing, but rewinding almost, coming back to before she had been destroyed rather than recovering after it, and then in the next mere moment, she was opening her eyes, for she had eyes now, and she was real and whole and alive and lying in the arms of someone who was kneeling amidst what looked like a disaster area. It looked as if a building had come down, all tumbled and crushed brick and stone and concrete everywhere, and as if it had all been set on fire to boot. She could still see smoke rising from some spots, and there were scorch marks from where flames had licked and lightning had struck. She could smell many bodies too, all of them dead, and recently. They were familiar scents.
The kneeling woman that was holding her smelled like a vampire, though not any she knew. No, not a woman, a...a woman-shaped thing. Lucille knew from her scent and the feel of her energy, her cold vacuum-like energy, that she was a vampire, but what else, she could not tell. She had the appearance of a white woman with long blonde hair, and was very pale even for a vampire, her blue eyes too big and her black lashes too long and her body, covered but for her hands and face in a simple black dress, too thin. She altogether looked like something that was so close to human, and yet not, with the basic shape right but all the little details wrong or absent, that it was frightening, unnerving. Whatever she was, whoever she was, Lucille knew that the light had come from her, or had been her, just knew it.
"The Earthmover sent me," said the thing. "I am called Lucretia."
Lucille groaned slightly and sat up, and, as she saw the destruction from the proper angle, realized that this was all that remained of the abandoned school. And she remembered what Anita had done to her.
She felt no sorrow for the dead nor for her own defeat, no fear or existentialism or change of heart from her own brand of death and returning from it, nothing but a hot flush of fury at being beaten by someone like Anita and a cold calculating of what to do next.
"You can undo it," said Lucretia, and Lucille turned back to look at her. Lucretia continued, "Not fix it. Undo it. Just as you undid what she did to you."
Lucille looked down at herself, and tried to remember how she had done it at all. She hadn't willed it, she didn't remember that, she'd assumed that this Lucretia had somehow. Lucretia stood up now, and Lucille saw that she was too tall for a human, making her thinness even more striking and impossible, and her hair reached nearly to the ground. The black-clad thing leaned down over the sitting Lucille so that their faces were almost even, and Lucille saw further how her eyelashes were far too ark and thick and long and many. They nearly brushed against Lucille's own. And her face so...strangely lacking in feature. Like looking at one of those creepy little ball-joined dolls. Like she'd been made to have the bare minimum needed to have a human face, and little else. Without even realizing it, Lucille scooted her butt on the ground backwards, away from this not-right thing.
"Will it," whispered Lucretia, "Make it so."
And so it was.
Lucille had closed her eyes, and when she had opened them, she and Lucretia were standing in front of the school, which was perfectly intact again, and brimming not with the scent of freshly dead bodies but with alive and undead ones within. The school hadn't been rebuilt, it had just never been destroyed. The rebels had not been resurrected, they had just never been killed. Everything that Anita had done to the place and the people in it had quite simply not ever happened at all. And yet Anita herself was not here, nor were her wereleopards. They had all still escaped, she had still had sex with everyone at her own base, still fixed Micah and Nathaniel from their wounds, and still cured the plague that Lucille's people had made. So her escape had never happened, but she was still gone.
How? How were two realities running concurrently and merging despite their contradicting timelines of events?
Because fuck logic, that's why. They were above such petty constraints, though even Lucille hadn't realized to what extent until now.
"How did you know I could do that?" Lucille looked quizzically, and rather un-trustingly at the other blonde.
"Because I have killed things like you before," she said simply, "I know your ways. Yours, and, now, Maureen's as well."
"Maureen?", Lucille blinked, surprised, "What do you mean, Maureen?"
***
"Necromancer?" Maureen blinked, surprised, "What do you mean, necromancer?"
She and Mr. Oliver were seated at a considerable distance apart on either side of a lovely wooden table, the same that they had always met at before, but Maureen was a different woman right now than Mr. Oliver had ever seen. Pale as she naturally was, her face was still visibly whiter from how much the Belle-possessed Asher had frightened her, and her hands still slightly shook as she tried to pretend she was drinking the tea she had been brought. She knew it was silly to think that something might have been put in it when Mr. Oliver could harm her in a dozen different ways without such mundane aid, but the definition of a phobia is that it is irrational. And phobic Maureen was when it came to vampires. Her issues with them had begun as, and were still mostly, based in rationality---they were dangerous just by virtue of existing, unlike other minorities, lived by preying on humanity, could control minds, had numerous super-powers, and seemed to exist in what could only be called a culture of sadistic sociopathy. All this had been enough to make her, as a lawyer and a human being with a functioning brain, consider them too dangerous to be made legal citizens, even if they could still be executed for mere petty theft.
But where her real hatred, and the fear that caused it, came from was far more personal than that. Personal, and painful. When she had been in college, she'd been ambushed, cornered, by two fear-line vampires, and they had...they had...
"The talent has long been suppressed in you, Ms. Garrett-Schmitt, but you are indeed a genuine necromancer, just like Anita Blake," said Mr. Oliver, snapping her out of her traumatic recollections. "I know that we told you that we wanted your help because of your legal expertise, funds, and personal interest in destroying the dangerous vampire empire that St. Louis has become, but I must admit, now that you know about it, your hidden talent was the number one reason we wanted you on our side, though we do thoroughly appreciate the rest as well."
Maureen would never like vampires---her two poor forcibly-turned children didn't count, they were victims of vampires just like she was---but she respected Mr. Oliver. He wanted to cull and control the vampire population just as she did, albeit for the betterment of the species rather than the detriment like she wanted, and he opposed their legalization for the same reasons that she did and more. He was a very sensible man, and, if she were a vampire, horrible as that thought was, she expected she'd be quite like him. And so she was not particularly offended or enraged that he and his cohorts had chosen her for this quality rather than the qualities she'd originally thought, since it was a logical thing to do, but she was rather irritated that he'd not told her about her talents when they would have been so useful. She told him as much, and asked if his reason for holding back was fear that she would use them against him, perhaps?
"I don't personally believe you would turn them against me unless I gave you a very good reason to," said Mr. Oliver. He meant that, for he knew that, phobic as she was, she was quite in control of herself most of the time as long as vampires didn't actually attack her and were not fear-line vampires. "No, the reason is that we didn't want two of you awakened at once if we could help it. You're a very, very dangerous breed."
Maureen thought that the 'two of you' comment referred to herself and Anita, and that the 'dangerous breed' meant necromancers, but as Mr. Oliver continued, he revealed something else entirely, "You, Lucille, and Anita are all a type of unique being called an SUE. Lucille and Anita have been active as such since their birth, but you, being older than they are, seem to have sort of...shut down your own abilities since they were born and began developing as SUEs. Or rather, their existence shut down the bulk of your SUEness. SUEs are rare things, and not supposed to exist concurrently, to the point that if two get in too lose a proximity, one or both will begin to cancel out. You and Lucille were born and grew up in the same city, so it was most likely her emergence that made your SUE status simmer down for most of your life so far. Now that she's out of the city for the first time, however..."
"I see," said Maureen, "How very Highlander. But what is a SUE? What qualities and powers are you talking about?"
As exciting and useful as necromancy was, this SUE stuff sounded even more promising to Maureen's ambitious ears, and Mr. Oliver did not disappoint in his lengthy explanation, "SUE stands for Superreal Unmoved Extradimensional. Superreal, because Sues become really the only real thing; everything else is less real, less important, the entire world will bend to their whims in unrealistic ways. Reality is real but Sues are superreal and can make it surreal.
Unmoved as in the philosophical concept of the "unmoved mover" which is the primary cause, or "mover", of all things and actions in the universe, yet is not moved itself by anything. It is the absolute, whose own reality is so unconditional as to transcend the limited, conditional, everyday existence of all others, like a god. Everything revolves around the SUE, in other words, and all the ordinary laws and rules of the world regarding everything from physics to social interaction will either bend or outright don't exist for them, if that's what benefits them.
Finally, Extradimensional because that's what SUEs are. They don't come from our dimension. Their physical shells, their bodies, might be born here to people of our world, but the magical essence inside them that makes them SUEs and gives them all these abilities is from another reality, hence why they disrupt our reality so much simply by existing. They are like a cuckoo chick in the nest of another bird, taking food from the real offspring, pushing them out when they become inconvenient, boggarting all the attention and benefits from the parent. We believe this essence to originate from the same dimension that demons are summoned from, and that it was what enabled the Mother of All Darkness to become what she was, what she is. She was not simply the first therianthrope and the first vampire, maybe even the first necromancers, she was also quite possibly the first SUE, which is let her be all these other firsts as well."
Maureen listened, and she comprehended, but she was not surprised, as she should have been. Nor did her mind race with the possibilities of what she could do with this power. It was as if her entire personality were on pause, and the only parts of her brain that were working were the bits that processed information. But that was all. Just processing, no reacting, either outwardly or in her own head. Perhaps part of that was shock, of there simply being no human capacity to properly react to the information that one could literally change the world with a thought...but perhaps it was more that, one some deep level she hadn't known existed within herself until now, Maureen was actually not shocked at all. She had not known, exactly, more liked sensed it without knowing what to call it, as if she had carried some illness in her breasts for years and known something was wrong, and simply been waiting for a diagnosis. Except that this was not a disease, it was her sense of self, the sense that the universe had always simply liked her, and that she was entitled to that. And that now that her competition for its favor was out of her immediate vicinity, it liked her even more, and was letting her finally unwrap the fancy anti-vampire gift it turned out she'd had all along inside.
"So if you didn't want two of us awakened at once against Anita, for fear, I presume, that you could not control us both, why then would you send Lucille away from New York City and leave me here, knowing that I would most likely become a full SUE like I was meant to be in her absence?" asked Maureen smoothly. She was calm now, calculating, what color she had back in her still-porcelain face. "Why not send us both to St. Louis, so that I would remain in her presence and thus remain safely dormant?"
"If it is taking Lucille long enough to defeat Anita that you to start manifesting your own SUE powers, then that means it's taken so much time that she clearly needs your help and you have to be ready to go help her as a full-fledged fellow SUE," answered Mr. Oliver. "The necromancy is only going to be the tip of the iceberg, Ms. Garrett-Schmitt. Get ready; your new abilities will now come upon you faster than ever. Luckily being a SUE means that you'll be able to wield and control them more or less effortlessly the moment they manifest, no time or training needed."
"And the cancellation effect? What of that? Won't I just...turn off as soon as I set foot in St. Louis where they are?"
"You might," said Mr. Oliver, "But you and Lucille might instead cancel Anita out. The way reality warps and bends depends on the will of the SUE, which is why the conflicting wills of Lucille and Anita have brought things to a standstill. If we have two SUEs that will the defeat of another instead of just one on one, well, that might be the tie-breaker that tips the decision of the universe."
He got up, as did Maureen, and continued, "Of course, this means that once Anita is defeated, I and mine face the danger of two SUEs replacing one, which is why you were a last resort, but Anita has to be stopped now more than ever with the new powers she's gained. We need to get you to St. Louis as soon as possible. I already have an associate waiting there for you. She's dealt with SUEs before."
"Good," smiled Maureen. It was a beautifully shark-like smile. "Maybe she can give me some tips on doing the same."
***
Hiero had been inside the Circus when Anita had returned and set off the ardeur-induced orgy, but luckily for him, he had not been a participant. He'd been inside his room at the time, and someone had locked him in just as it hit. He didn't know who, but he was grateful to them with all his heart. Just feeling it course through him was terrible enough. He'd lain crying and spasming on the floor the entire time, unable to stop his body from reacting, unable to block it out with his mere human magical abilities.
Ever since he'd hit his preteens, Hiero had struggled with his own lusts. Being taken control of by them had been one of his ultimate nightmares, and now it happened for real, leaving him shaken, terrified, and feeling violated at his deepest level. He was no longer laying on the floor, but he was sitting on it in a far corner, knees held to his chest, trembling all over.
He had to leave here. He had to get out.
But he was too scared to move.
***
In the same room where meetings between leaders were always held, Jean-Claude and Anita were discussing recent developments since her absence with the other heads, sans Narcissus and plus Nathaniel. Sans Narcissus because the first thing that Jean-Claude had done after the orgy was tell Anita that the werehyena and his Cackle were traitors who had been helping Lucille all along. Anita then demonstrated her new powers on all the werehyenas who had been currently at the Circus, killing them, and while Narcissus himself had not been there, he and his people were now slated to be hunted down like the rest of their enemies; a group of guards had already been sent to see if he was hiding at his club.
Damian, meanwhile, had been jailed within the Circus' prison until it could be decided if killing him were worth the risk. This was because, through their mind-link as members of the same triumvirate, Nathaniel had gleaned of Damian’s desire to change sides, how he had spoken of it to the strange shifter Tung. This had been when Nathaniel himself was still in captivity at the school, but now that he was out, however unwilling he had been in his release, he was able to tell Anita and Jean-Claude about it. He'd had no qualms about doing so either, and not just because of his 'loyalty' to Anita. See, Nathaniel was not nice. That was mistake people made with him---they thought that his submissiveness, his supposed utter lack of care for himself, must translate into proportionately over-caring about others. But it didn't; quite the reverse, in fact. His willingness to please people had nothing to do with caring about them, nothing to do with kindness of compassion, it was just conditioning, conditioning on how to survive, and he had learned that survival meant sucking up. So if Lucille would not have him, he'd go right back to sucking up to the other side, and if that meant selling out Damian, well, too bad for the redhead, it just meant that much less competition to be Anita’s main squeeze. He was pretty smug with himself over it, in fact; Damian had always been an uppity little boat-rocker in the harem, it was about time he got put in his place, or, if they could find a way, got rid of entirely. He hoped he had to be got rid of; he’d learned from the Haven incident that all the comforting and cajoling Anita would demand afterwards was an excellent to earn, as she said, brownie points.
The returned Rafael, meanwhile, was a little confused. Anita spoke of killing Lucille and destroying the school with her new elemental abilities, and yet he knew this was not so. The school was intact, everyone was alive including Lucille, and yet he could smell no lie from Anita. Jean-Claude seemed to believe her as well, and he had a mind-link to her. Was this some kind of ruse to fool the other leaders for some reason? Or was Anita just so deluded with her own powers at this point that she really believed it so much that not only did she not know she was lying, Jean-Claude didn’t either? Either way, he decided not to contradict her, not to say anything about it, and to simply nod in submissive gratitude when she said he must have escaped during the wreckage and chaos. She also claimed to have rescued Micah and Nathaniel as well, and they, of course, said nothing to the contrary, though Rafael got a vibe from them, their mistress, and Jean-Claude that none of them were at all deceived by this claim. Curious, that. He was also quite relieved that he’d missed her homecoming orgy; Donovan had been lucky that way as well, and they had each shared a glance upon entering the room that spoke of dodging that particular bullet. Poor Richard, alas, had been an ardeur-victim once again, as had many of his Pack, and Rafael’s Rodere too. That alone made Rafael more determined than ever to do what he had promised Lucille and get Richard on her side, get him and their people out.
That, of course, would have to wait. Right now, he had to pretend as if he were still one of Jean-Claude’s pets, and find out just what this faux-aristocrat fop was planning to do now that he and Anita thought their foes to be vanquished.
Jean-Claude made some beginning niceties, proper greetings and congratulations and such, but he got to the meat quickly enough for once,
“Long ago when Marmee Noir walked the earth, she made the therians just as she made the vampires. No one knows how, and there are as many stories as there are kinds of shifter, but we know that she traveled from land to land, and in each land she picked whatever animal was the top predator, even if that was but the lowly rat or craven fox, and made a corresponding shifter species among her fellow pre-humans. And then, she made no more, so there were no more. “
He made a deliberately dramatic pause, “Until now. We captured a woman known as Fell from among the enemies, and while they reclaimed her from us before we could find out everything we needed to know from her, we were able to determine that she was a new type of therian. She had a type of beast that was not of any kind supposed to be in existence. The scent of two other types unknown therian were found in the Circus tunnels after raids by the enemies. They’re not the same kind of animal was Fell, but something also different, also…new.”
Another pause.
“It is, of course, possible that there have been secret strains of therianthropy never known until now that the Council, some of whom I have been informed were helping Lucille, kept covered up and only unleashed now as a last resort to take us down. But what is more likely is that, like the magical plague planted here by the enemies with Anita so wonderfully healed us of, these strains were created. Since Marmee Noir is defeated, we can only assume someone else, somehow, did this. Perhaps it was magical. Perhaps the Council absorbed this ability of Marmee Noir when she perished. Or perhaps it was scientific. Not all vampires are as anti-modern as some think, and the Council could well fund the science required to accomplish this even if they did not understand it themselves. Perhaps it was both, or something else entirely. I do not know. All I know is that if there are these three, there could be more.”
New shifters. And no one knew how they were being created, or where, or by who. The implications hung heavy in the air like ripening fruit.
“We must return to what remains of the school. We must find any clues we can about this. And we must do it soon, before anything can decay or be covered up by more Council minions. Assemble anyone in your groups who will have skills in finding and preserving evidence; we will do it tomorrow night."
***
The next day, Rafael made his move.
Rafael had, like the others in the school, died when Anita destroyed said school. And like the others, was no longer dead and never had been at all when Lucille willed for it to have never happened. However, he too had returned to the Circus of the Damned shortly after Micah and Nathaniel had shown up there themselves. The reason for this was not the illicit intervention of Lucille's more moral cronies, but a tactical decision by Lucille herself.
Up until now, Rafael had resisted turning traitor against Anita and her lot. Lucille had at first been puzzled by this, but now she knew why. It was the same reason that members of her crew had been able to have thoughts, and even commit actions, that went against what she wanted and what was in her best interest: Anita being so close by. But now that Anita was gone, so was her hold on Rafael and the protection it had given him against doing exactly what Lucille wanted. And what she wanted was for him to go back to the Circus under the pretense of having escaped, and convert Richard to the side of the resistance as well, for Wander had told Lucille what she had learned from the Hati about how all the werewolves were just itching for a chance to rise up against that wretched whore if only Richard would as well. Or could, rather; given his ties to her and the bloodsucking frog, ability would be the real issue rather than will.
Anita could break bonds like that. Lucille was sure that she should be able to as well. And yet, like killing Anita for good, she didn't know how. Oh well, she could figure that out when she came to it. It'd work out for her, it always did. That was the rule. Just like with Anita.
So it fell to Rafael to try to recruit Richard in spirit even if the Ulfric might not be able to actually act against his masters yet.
It must be emphasized that, even though reality had pushed him to agreeing with her when he might not normally, Rafael was still not truly on the side of Lucille but on the side of his rats, as he always had been. What Lucille didn't know was that it wasn't just her hooks in his head that was making Rafael do this. It was that he truly believed that getting his wererats away from Anita was what was best from them, and now he finally thought Lucille could do it, especially if they could get the werewolves in on it. Yes, Anita had esaped her clutches, but neither Lucille nor any of her people had been harmed or killed in the process. She had, it seemed to Rafael, merely slipped away and not stayed to fight. As stupid and bloodthirsty as Anita was, Lucille must be really something for even her to have decided simply fleeing the scene was the best option. Beating Anita not possible, perhaps, but now he believe it was at least possible to get away from her.
That last bit was what he approached Richard with as they hiked together in the woods. This was not a usual hobby of Rafael but a great one of Richard, who found it relaxing. Anita would have attributed being at ease in the outdoors to his wolf but he'd always loved it, even before his infection at nineteen. When Rafael said this to him, it stopped him in his tracks despite being on an incline and looked at Rafael with great moroseness. He had known when Rafael asked to accompany him on his next hike that Rafael must have wanted to talk to him about something supernatural-related, since they were not personal friends despite their mutual respect for one another, but he had not expected it would be something so depressingly impossible and dearly wished by him as that. Getting away from Anita was all that Richard wanted to do ever, and had been ever since being bonded to her by that wretched triumvirate. Time and again he would try, but then something--her through the bond, perhaps--made him return. His return would start first by seeking out women who merely looked like her, and end by going back to the real thing, usually towing the poor replacement along so that Anita got the satisfaction of lambasting and humiliating her,almost as if he were offering that as a gift to make up for having been away. It was so cruel, so cyclical, and he could never stop it. He couldn't even stop trying, which led him to believe Anita must enjoy it and thus her influence was what made him keep doing it. He hated to push responsibility off himself like that but it was the only explanation he could find.
Richard told Rafael exactly what Rafael had expected: to please not to tease him with things that weren't possible, that neither of them should try, especially not Rafael because, unlike Richard, whom Anita needed around as a whipping boy, he was expendable to Anita. He wasn't sexy and he wasn't white; only being a male leader in St. Louis had made her determined to extract a boffing from him in return for her protection. Protection meaning she wouldn't do to him what was done to Joseph, of course.
"That's the thing, I think it really is possible," said Rafael, even as Richard turned away, "Listen, Lucille might not have beaten Anita, but Anita didn't beat Lucille either. She was right there in her stronghold, and you saw what she did to Micah and Nathaniel, but she didn't go after her! Even with that massive elemental power upgrade she got, she just left and went back to the Circus!"
"Maybe she didn't want to Lucille on while she had all her people with her and Anita didn't have any, " said Richard hesitantly, but Rafael said what he knew Richard was thinking,
"Oh come on, since when has she ever been half that sensible? And she wouldn't need her people, not when she could have just struck everyone with lightning or willed them all on fire and whatever else she can do now!"
"She doesn't actually need guards for a lot of things but she still drags them along with her anyway because she thinks she does," countered Richard, though his tone was more self-doubting still, "Maybe that was the case here. She didn't think she could."
"Wait, you think she totes those guards around everywhere because she thinks she needs them? I thought she just wanted to make people look at her."
"Well...that too," Richard admitted, biting his lip, "Same thing with the guns, you know? I'm sure she still thinks she might need those, though."
"Hopes, more like."
Richard said nothing to this, and so Rafael went on, "Look, back to my original point, I think we have a shot at getting away from her if we ally with Lucille. I don't think anyone can beat her the way she is now, no, but at this point all I want to do is get my people away from her without repercussions, and you can't tell me you don't want the same. You're too good an Ulfric, and too good a man not to, even with all that she and that vamp have made you into."
"And what if you're wrong?" Richard's face had turned hard, as had his tone, "Think about what would happen to my people then!"
"Your people are going to kill you if you don't do something!"
Richard's eyes widened, "What?"
Rafael told him what Wander had told him and Lucille that Shang-Da had said, finishing with, "And this is from one of your pack members. Your Hati, I believe."
Richard was shocked, and wondered if Shang-Da had told this as a lie to the opposition for some reason. But then why then wouldn't he have filled Richard in about the ruse?
"I can see this is a surprise for you," said Rafael, not without a touch of sympathy, "My bet is he and Jamil have been keeping how bad things are from you."
Richard's face snapped into a snarl, "How do you know how bad or good things are in my pack?"
Rafael kept calm, "I don't, but it must be bad if your own Hati has to protect you from them. And I don't blame them. The wererats were all raped through me once, and they should have killed me for that...but you hand yourself and your pack over to her entirely. Why shouldn't they come to despise you for that?"
"That's so she won't kill us!"
"And yet it's going to make them kill you! You're trapped, Richard, more than I am, more than the Rodere is, risking this makes even more sense for you and yours than it does for me and mine!"
And Richard knew that he was right. He stood still for a moment, looking down, then asked in a flat, hopeless tone, "How do you think I can keep this from Jean-Claude? Anita isn't in my brain much, just her desires jerking me around to come back to her, but he uses our bond to scour my head for exactly this kind of thing."
"Well", said Rafael, "He wasn't able to reach her when she was with Lucille, was he?"
***
Now that it was daylight (according to his watch, anyway; he hadn't left his underground room since the ardeur) Hiero knew that he had to move, had to get out of here now. He couldn't stay here another moment, not in the room where such a terrible feeling, such a terrible thing had happened to, not anywhere within miles of the place, not one more second! He barely bothered to pack, shoving in only what he needed--passports, wallet, a few protective charms--to his pockets, leaving the rest of his luggage behind and not caring, which, from such an admittedly material person as him, told much of how desperate he was.
He made it out the door of his room, and though he got lost a few times in the winding halls and curving corridors of the Circus underground, he made it up the stairs and had just opened the big doors to the above-ground section...and standing there waiting for him was Anita, flanked by Micah and guards.
"You see?" said Micah, "Jean-Claude was right. He's trying to leave, and without telling anyone...even with Lucille dead, that looks awfully suspicious, Mr. van Pelt."
"Dead?" No one had come to tell him what had happened, so this was the first Hiero was hearing of it. The news sent a cold stone dropping through his innards; he had wanted his cousin stopped, not killed. "Are...are my friends okay? The ones she was controlling?"
"I see how it is," said Anita, "You come in here, pretending to help us, using your magic to cover up from the vamps and shifters that you're lying, and now that things went south for you and your friends you're trying to sneak out before we realize it!"
"What?" Hiero stared at her like she was speaking gibberish. None of that had made any sense to him. He looked to Micah and the guards to see if they were as confused as was. They, however, were too used to her insane troll logic to show any reaction.
“You’re a threat,” Anita continued, stepping forward. Electricity crackled in one of her hands, while a small flame erupted around the other, neither element harming her flesh…but sure to fry his. “We can’t tolerate any threats. We have to protect our people.”
“But Jean-Claude also said he could still be useful to us,” said Micah cajolingly, placing a hand on Anita’s shoulder, causing her momentary distraction by making her think about how he was exactly her height. “He might know things we need to.”
“I don’t know anything,” squeaked Hiero, as much as a big man like him with a deep voice could squeak. He realized right after it was out of his mouth that it was probably the worst thing he could have said, because if he didn’t know anything then there would be no reason for Anita not to kill him. Then he saw the grin from Micah. Micah knew he was innocent, that he knew nothing, he just wanted to watch Anita torture him with the ardeur for 'information' before she realized he was worthless. Micah could smell lies, but he didn’t need to, he and Jean-Claude both knew full-well that Hiero had been nothing but sincere in his offers of help, and they also knew perfectly well why he was leaving now. Jean-Claude had been inside his head, inside his desires, and he knew how much the ardeur would terrify him, and he had told Micah to be ready today for when he bolted, so they could catch him before he was able to get to the cops. And just as predicted, here he was. If Micah was lucky, he could get Anita to use the ardeur again on the big lug before they killed him. She’d not fuck him herself, sure, but Micah would still get off on watching. Anita, of course, was too easy to convince that he was fleeing from guilt instead; he might be tall, muscular, and handsome with long hair and unusually-colored eyes, but he was still just a human, witch or not, so she had no reason to believe anything good of him or want to see him spared.
And he would not have been, if not at that moment a call had come to Micah and Anita from their cells from the guards who had been scouting the school ahead of time, telling them that the school was still standing, perfectly intact, and from what they could tell still inhabited.
“Well,” said Micah looking at Hiero after he hung up, “It looks like you’re going to be useful after all.”
SUE VS SUE
Its foundations ravaged by the tremors below and from what water remained in it beating on its walls in the basement, the school crumbled in on itself in flames. Above the wreckage, the skies were black with a great and violent storm that Anita was levitating herself into, using the winds to lift her so that she almost flew. They carried her, her black hair whipping around majestically, her eyes filled with vampire power, away from the destruction she had wrought, away from her victory, and back to her home, to the Circus, where she landed with great fanfare before the entrance. Her people poured out from the door towards her, each and every one of them gushing exclamations and praises at her return, her power, and how damn good she looked especially without the use of makeup and basic hygiene for several days like other girls needed because they were icky and fake and shallow and Anita was just like a guy but hot like a hot girl and that made her perfect.
She then proceeded to suddenly need more energy in order to recharge after such a massive display of power and so needed to feed the ardeur, despite the fact that this power was not related to the ardeur, and an orgy occurred after a great deal of talking that rather contradicted the supposed urgency of said orgy. There was quite a lot of hotness, and wetness, and tightness, and power power power that spilled over everyone...and healed them. The power healed Anita of everything that Lucille had done to her, to Micah and Nathaniel of their mutilations and modifications, and it healed everyone in the Circus of the magical plague that Narcissus had introduced by planting bondage toys there that Mitria, the werearmadillo carrier of said plague, had rolled around on.
In other words, everything was back to normal. And Jean-Claude smiled, believing that it would stay that way.
***
Lucille was not dead. As Anita proved, it took more than bodily destruction to kill things of her ilk. But she was not precisely alive at the moment either. Not in the way that undead are not quite alive, nor like a ghost or spirit, but as a sort of aether, a space between spaces, floating in nothingness and filling the gaps between atoms, completely disassembled, no thought, no feelings, but an awareness, not a singular awareness like a human mind but a blank and spread-out one, vague and impersonal. She was there. Not exactly existent, but there, a sort of potential energy, in stasis, a quintessence with a soul perhaps.
And then she saw, though she had no eyes, a light, bright and cold like the cleanest snow, and stinging just as sharp to the touch, even though she couldn't physically feel, having no physicality. And she felt herself coming back together. Not so much healing, but rewinding almost, coming back to before she had been destroyed rather than recovering after it, and then in the next mere moment, she was opening her eyes, for she had eyes now, and she was real and whole and alive and lying in the arms of someone who was kneeling amidst what looked like a disaster area. It looked as if a building had come down, all tumbled and crushed brick and stone and concrete everywhere, and as if it had all been set on fire to boot. She could still see smoke rising from some spots, and there were scorch marks from where flames had licked and lightning had struck. She could smell many bodies too, all of them dead, and recently. They were familiar scents.
The kneeling woman that was holding her smelled like a vampire, though not any she knew. No, not a woman, a...a woman-shaped thing. Lucille knew from her scent and the feel of her energy, her cold vacuum-like energy, that she was a vampire, but what else, she could not tell. She had the appearance of a white woman with long blonde hair, and was very pale even for a vampire, her blue eyes too big and her black lashes too long and her body, covered but for her hands and face in a simple black dress, too thin. She altogether looked like something that was so close to human, and yet not, with the basic shape right but all the little details wrong or absent, that it was frightening, unnerving. Whatever she was, whoever she was, Lucille knew that the light had come from her, or had been her, just knew it.
"The Earthmover sent me," said the thing. "I am called Lucretia."
Lucille groaned slightly and sat up, and, as she saw the destruction from the proper angle, realized that this was all that remained of the abandoned school. And she remembered what Anita had done to her.
She felt no sorrow for the dead nor for her own defeat, no fear or existentialism or change of heart from her own brand of death and returning from it, nothing but a hot flush of fury at being beaten by someone like Anita and a cold calculating of what to do next.
"You can undo it," said Lucretia, and Lucille turned back to look at her. Lucretia continued, "Not fix it. Undo it. Just as you undid what she did to you."
Lucille looked down at herself, and tried to remember how she had done it at all. She hadn't willed it, she didn't remember that, she'd assumed that this Lucretia had somehow. Lucretia stood up now, and Lucille saw that she was too tall for a human, making her thinness even more striking and impossible, and her hair reached nearly to the ground. The black-clad thing leaned down over the sitting Lucille so that their faces were almost even, and Lucille saw further how her eyelashes were far too ark and thick and long and many. They nearly brushed against Lucille's own. And her face so...strangely lacking in feature. Like looking at one of those creepy little ball-joined dolls. Like she'd been made to have the bare minimum needed to have a human face, and little else. Without even realizing it, Lucille scooted her butt on the ground backwards, away from this not-right thing.
"Will it," whispered Lucretia, "Make it so."
And so it was.
Lucille had closed her eyes, and when she had opened them, she and Lucretia were standing in front of the school, which was perfectly intact again, and brimming not with the scent of freshly dead bodies but with alive and undead ones within. The school hadn't been rebuilt, it had just never been destroyed. The rebels had not been resurrected, they had just never been killed. Everything that Anita had done to the place and the people in it had quite simply not ever happened at all. And yet Anita herself was not here, nor were her wereleopards. They had all still escaped, she had still had sex with everyone at her own base, still fixed Micah and Nathaniel from their wounds, and still cured the plague that Lucille's people had made. So her escape had never happened, but she was still gone.
How? How were two realities running concurrently and merging despite their contradicting timelines of events?
Because fuck logic, that's why. They were above such petty constraints, though even Lucille hadn't realized to what extent until now.
"How did you know I could do that?" Lucille looked quizzically, and rather un-trustingly at the other blonde.
"Because I have killed things like you before," she said simply, "I know your ways. Yours, and, now, Maureen's as well."
"Maureen?", Lucille blinked, surprised, "What do you mean, Maureen?"
***
"Necromancer?" Maureen blinked, surprised, "What do you mean, necromancer?"
She and Mr. Oliver were seated at a considerable distance apart on either side of a lovely wooden table, the same that they had always met at before, but Maureen was a different woman right now than Mr. Oliver had ever seen. Pale as she naturally was, her face was still visibly whiter from how much the Belle-possessed Asher had frightened her, and her hands still slightly shook as she tried to pretend she was drinking the tea she had been brought. She knew it was silly to think that something might have been put in it when Mr. Oliver could harm her in a dozen different ways without such mundane aid, but the definition of a phobia is that it is irrational. And phobic Maureen was when it came to vampires. Her issues with them had begun as, and were still mostly, based in rationality---they were dangerous just by virtue of existing, unlike other minorities, lived by preying on humanity, could control minds, had numerous super-powers, and seemed to exist in what could only be called a culture of sadistic sociopathy. All this had been enough to make her, as a lawyer and a human being with a functioning brain, consider them too dangerous to be made legal citizens, even if they could still be executed for mere petty theft.
But where her real hatred, and the fear that caused it, came from was far more personal than that. Personal, and painful. When she had been in college, she'd been ambushed, cornered, by two fear-line vampires, and they had...they had...
"The talent has long been suppressed in you, Ms. Garrett-Schmitt, but you are indeed a genuine necromancer, just like Anita Blake," said Mr. Oliver, snapping her out of her traumatic recollections. "I know that we told you that we wanted your help because of your legal expertise, funds, and personal interest in destroying the dangerous vampire empire that St. Louis has become, but I must admit, now that you know about it, your hidden talent was the number one reason we wanted you on our side, though we do thoroughly appreciate the rest as well."
Maureen would never like vampires---her two poor forcibly-turned children didn't count, they were victims of vampires just like she was---but she respected Mr. Oliver. He wanted to cull and control the vampire population just as she did, albeit for the betterment of the species rather than the detriment like she wanted, and he opposed their legalization for the same reasons that she did and more. He was a very sensible man, and, if she were a vampire, horrible as that thought was, she expected she'd be quite like him. And so she was not particularly offended or enraged that he and his cohorts had chosen her for this quality rather than the qualities she'd originally thought, since it was a logical thing to do, but she was rather irritated that he'd not told her about her talents when they would have been so useful. She told him as much, and asked if his reason for holding back was fear that she would use them against him, perhaps?
"I don't personally believe you would turn them against me unless I gave you a very good reason to," said Mr. Oliver. He meant that, for he knew that, phobic as she was, she was quite in control of herself most of the time as long as vampires didn't actually attack her and were not fear-line vampires. "No, the reason is that we didn't want two of you awakened at once if we could help it. You're a very, very dangerous breed."
Maureen thought that the 'two of you' comment referred to herself and Anita, and that the 'dangerous breed' meant necromancers, but as Mr. Oliver continued, he revealed something else entirely, "You, Lucille, and Anita are all a type of unique being called an SUE. Lucille and Anita have been active as such since their birth, but you, being older than they are, seem to have sort of...shut down your own abilities since they were born and began developing as SUEs. Or rather, their existence shut down the bulk of your SUEness. SUEs are rare things, and not supposed to exist concurrently, to the point that if two get in too lose a proximity, one or both will begin to cancel out. You and Lucille were born and grew up in the same city, so it was most likely her emergence that made your SUE status simmer down for most of your life so far. Now that she's out of the city for the first time, however..."
"I see," said Maureen, "How very Highlander. But what is a SUE? What qualities and powers are you talking about?"
As exciting and useful as necromancy was, this SUE stuff sounded even more promising to Maureen's ambitious ears, and Mr. Oliver did not disappoint in his lengthy explanation, "SUE stands for Superreal Unmoved Extradimensional. Superreal, because Sues become really the only real thing; everything else is less real, less important, the entire world will bend to their whims in unrealistic ways. Reality is real but Sues are superreal and can make it surreal.
Unmoved as in the philosophical concept of the "unmoved mover" which is the primary cause, or "mover", of all things and actions in the universe, yet is not moved itself by anything. It is the absolute, whose own reality is so unconditional as to transcend the limited, conditional, everyday existence of all others, like a god. Everything revolves around the SUE, in other words, and all the ordinary laws and rules of the world regarding everything from physics to social interaction will either bend or outright don't exist for them, if that's what benefits them.
Finally, Extradimensional because that's what SUEs are. They don't come from our dimension. Their physical shells, their bodies, might be born here to people of our world, but the magical essence inside them that makes them SUEs and gives them all these abilities is from another reality, hence why they disrupt our reality so much simply by existing. They are like a cuckoo chick in the nest of another bird, taking food from the real offspring, pushing them out when they become inconvenient, boggarting all the attention and benefits from the parent. We believe this essence to originate from the same dimension that demons are summoned from, and that it was what enabled the Mother of All Darkness to become what she was, what she is. She was not simply the first therianthrope and the first vampire, maybe even the first necromancers, she was also quite possibly the first SUE, which is let her be all these other firsts as well."
Maureen listened, and she comprehended, but she was not surprised, as she should have been. Nor did her mind race with the possibilities of what she could do with this power. It was as if her entire personality were on pause, and the only parts of her brain that were working were the bits that processed information. But that was all. Just processing, no reacting, either outwardly or in her own head. Perhaps part of that was shock, of there simply being no human capacity to properly react to the information that one could literally change the world with a thought...but perhaps it was more that, one some deep level she hadn't known existed within herself until now, Maureen was actually not shocked at all. She had not known, exactly, more liked sensed it without knowing what to call it, as if she had carried some illness in her breasts for years and known something was wrong, and simply been waiting for a diagnosis. Except that this was not a disease, it was her sense of self, the sense that the universe had always simply liked her, and that she was entitled to that. And that now that her competition for its favor was out of her immediate vicinity, it liked her even more, and was letting her finally unwrap the fancy anti-vampire gift it turned out she'd had all along inside.
"So if you didn't want two of us awakened at once against Anita, for fear, I presume, that you could not control us both, why then would you send Lucille away from New York City and leave me here, knowing that I would most likely become a full SUE like I was meant to be in her absence?" asked Maureen smoothly. She was calm now, calculating, what color she had back in her still-porcelain face. "Why not send us both to St. Louis, so that I would remain in her presence and thus remain safely dormant?"
"If it is taking Lucille long enough to defeat Anita that you to start manifesting your own SUE powers, then that means it's taken so much time that she clearly needs your help and you have to be ready to go help her as a full-fledged fellow SUE," answered Mr. Oliver. "The necromancy is only going to be the tip of the iceberg, Ms. Garrett-Schmitt. Get ready; your new abilities will now come upon you faster than ever. Luckily being a SUE means that you'll be able to wield and control them more or less effortlessly the moment they manifest, no time or training needed."
"And the cancellation effect? What of that? Won't I just...turn off as soon as I set foot in St. Louis where they are?"
"You might," said Mr. Oliver, "But you and Lucille might instead cancel Anita out. The way reality warps and bends depends on the will of the SUE, which is why the conflicting wills of Lucille and Anita have brought things to a standstill. If we have two SUEs that will the defeat of another instead of just one on one, well, that might be the tie-breaker that tips the decision of the universe."
He got up, as did Maureen, and continued, "Of course, this means that once Anita is defeated, I and mine face the danger of two SUEs replacing one, which is why you were a last resort, but Anita has to be stopped now more than ever with the new powers she's gained. We need to get you to St. Louis as soon as possible. I already have an associate waiting there for you. She's dealt with SUEs before."
"Good," smiled Maureen. It was a beautifully shark-like smile. "Maybe she can give me some tips on doing the same."
***
Hiero had been inside the Circus when Anita had returned and set off the ardeur-induced orgy, but luckily for him, he had not been a participant. He'd been inside his room at the time, and someone had locked him in just as it hit. He didn't know who, but he was grateful to them with all his heart. Just feeling it course through him was terrible enough. He'd lain crying and spasming on the floor the entire time, unable to stop his body from reacting, unable to block it out with his mere human magical abilities.
Ever since he'd hit his preteens, Hiero had struggled with his own lusts. Being taken control of by them had been one of his ultimate nightmares, and now it happened for real, leaving him shaken, terrified, and feeling violated at his deepest level. He was no longer laying on the floor, but he was sitting on it in a far corner, knees held to his chest, trembling all over.
He had to leave here. He had to get out.
But he was too scared to move.
***
In the same room where meetings between leaders were always held, Jean-Claude and Anita were discussing recent developments since her absence with the other heads, sans Narcissus and plus Nathaniel. Sans Narcissus because the first thing that Jean-Claude had done after the orgy was tell Anita that the werehyena and his Cackle were traitors who had been helping Lucille all along. Anita then demonstrated her new powers on all the werehyenas who had been currently at the Circus, killing them, and while Narcissus himself had not been there, he and his people were now slated to be hunted down like the rest of their enemies; a group of guards had already been sent to see if he was hiding at his club.
Damian, meanwhile, had been jailed within the Circus' prison until it could be decided if killing him were worth the risk. This was because, through their mind-link as members of the same triumvirate, Nathaniel had gleaned of Damian’s desire to change sides, how he had spoken of it to the strange shifter Tung. This had been when Nathaniel himself was still in captivity at the school, but now that he was out, however unwilling he had been in his release, he was able to tell Anita and Jean-Claude about it. He'd had no qualms about doing so either, and not just because of his 'loyalty' to Anita. See, Nathaniel was not nice. That was mistake people made with him---they thought that his submissiveness, his supposed utter lack of care for himself, must translate into proportionately over-caring about others. But it didn't; quite the reverse, in fact. His willingness to please people had nothing to do with caring about them, nothing to do with kindness of compassion, it was just conditioning, conditioning on how to survive, and he had learned that survival meant sucking up. So if Lucille would not have him, he'd go right back to sucking up to the other side, and if that meant selling out Damian, well, too bad for the redhead, it just meant that much less competition to be Anita’s main squeeze. He was pretty smug with himself over it, in fact; Damian had always been an uppity little boat-rocker in the harem, it was about time he got put in his place, or, if they could find a way, got rid of entirely. He hoped he had to be got rid of; he’d learned from the Haven incident that all the comforting and cajoling Anita would demand afterwards was an excellent to earn, as she said, brownie points.
The returned Rafael, meanwhile, was a little confused. Anita spoke of killing Lucille and destroying the school with her new elemental abilities, and yet he knew this was not so. The school was intact, everyone was alive including Lucille, and yet he could smell no lie from Anita. Jean-Claude seemed to believe her as well, and he had a mind-link to her. Was this some kind of ruse to fool the other leaders for some reason? Or was Anita just so deluded with her own powers at this point that she really believed it so much that not only did she not know she was lying, Jean-Claude didn’t either? Either way, he decided not to contradict her, not to say anything about it, and to simply nod in submissive gratitude when she said he must have escaped during the wreckage and chaos. She also claimed to have rescued Micah and Nathaniel as well, and they, of course, said nothing to the contrary, though Rafael got a vibe from them, their mistress, and Jean-Claude that none of them were at all deceived by this claim. Curious, that. He was also quite relieved that he’d missed her homecoming orgy; Donovan had been lucky that way as well, and they had each shared a glance upon entering the room that spoke of dodging that particular bullet. Poor Richard, alas, had been an ardeur-victim once again, as had many of his Pack, and Rafael’s Rodere too. That alone made Rafael more determined than ever to do what he had promised Lucille and get Richard on her side, get him and their people out.
That, of course, would have to wait. Right now, he had to pretend as if he were still one of Jean-Claude’s pets, and find out just what this faux-aristocrat fop was planning to do now that he and Anita thought their foes to be vanquished.
Jean-Claude made some beginning niceties, proper greetings and congratulations and such, but he got to the meat quickly enough for once,
“Long ago when Marmee Noir walked the earth, she made the therians just as she made the vampires. No one knows how, and there are as many stories as there are kinds of shifter, but we know that she traveled from land to land, and in each land she picked whatever animal was the top predator, even if that was but the lowly rat or craven fox, and made a corresponding shifter species among her fellow pre-humans. And then, she made no more, so there were no more. “
He made a deliberately dramatic pause, “Until now. We captured a woman known as Fell from among the enemies, and while they reclaimed her from us before we could find out everything we needed to know from her, we were able to determine that she was a new type of therian. She had a type of beast that was not of any kind supposed to be in existence. The scent of two other types unknown therian were found in the Circus tunnels after raids by the enemies. They’re not the same kind of animal was Fell, but something also different, also…new.”
Another pause.
“It is, of course, possible that there have been secret strains of therianthropy never known until now that the Council, some of whom I have been informed were helping Lucille, kept covered up and only unleashed now as a last resort to take us down. But what is more likely is that, like the magical plague planted here by the enemies with Anita so wonderfully healed us of, these strains were created. Since Marmee Noir is defeated, we can only assume someone else, somehow, did this. Perhaps it was magical. Perhaps the Council absorbed this ability of Marmee Noir when she perished. Or perhaps it was scientific. Not all vampires are as anti-modern as some think, and the Council could well fund the science required to accomplish this even if they did not understand it themselves. Perhaps it was both, or something else entirely. I do not know. All I know is that if there are these three, there could be more.”
New shifters. And no one knew how they were being created, or where, or by who. The implications hung heavy in the air like ripening fruit.
“We must return to what remains of the school. We must find any clues we can about this. And we must do it soon, before anything can decay or be covered up by more Council minions. Assemble anyone in your groups who will have skills in finding and preserving evidence; we will do it tomorrow night."
***
The next day, Rafael made his move.
Rafael had, like the others in the school, died when Anita destroyed said school. And like the others, was no longer dead and never had been at all when Lucille willed for it to have never happened. However, he too had returned to the Circus of the Damned shortly after Micah and Nathaniel had shown up there themselves. The reason for this was not the illicit intervention of Lucille's more moral cronies, but a tactical decision by Lucille herself.
Up until now, Rafael had resisted turning traitor against Anita and her lot. Lucille had at first been puzzled by this, but now she knew why. It was the same reason that members of her crew had been able to have thoughts, and even commit actions, that went against what she wanted and what was in her best interest: Anita being so close by. But now that Anita was gone, so was her hold on Rafael and the protection it had given him against doing exactly what Lucille wanted. And what she wanted was for him to go back to the Circus under the pretense of having escaped, and convert Richard to the side of the resistance as well, for Wander had told Lucille what she had learned from the Hati about how all the werewolves were just itching for a chance to rise up against that wretched whore if only Richard would as well. Or could, rather; given his ties to her and the bloodsucking frog, ability would be the real issue rather than will.
Anita could break bonds like that. Lucille was sure that she should be able to as well. And yet, like killing Anita for good, she didn't know how. Oh well, she could figure that out when she came to it. It'd work out for her, it always did. That was the rule. Just like with Anita.
So it fell to Rafael to try to recruit Richard in spirit even if the Ulfric might not be able to actually act against his masters yet.
It must be emphasized that, even though reality had pushed him to agreeing with her when he might not normally, Rafael was still not truly on the side of Lucille but on the side of his rats, as he always had been. What Lucille didn't know was that it wasn't just her hooks in his head that was making Rafael do this. It was that he truly believed that getting his wererats away from Anita was what was best from them, and now he finally thought Lucille could do it, especially if they could get the werewolves in on it. Yes, Anita had esaped her clutches, but neither Lucille nor any of her people had been harmed or killed in the process. She had, it seemed to Rafael, merely slipped away and not stayed to fight. As stupid and bloodthirsty as Anita was, Lucille must be really something for even her to have decided simply fleeing the scene was the best option. Beating Anita not possible, perhaps, but now he believe it was at least possible to get away from her.
That last bit was what he approached Richard with as they hiked together in the woods. This was not a usual hobby of Rafael but a great one of Richard, who found it relaxing. Anita would have attributed being at ease in the outdoors to his wolf but he'd always loved it, even before his infection at nineteen. When Rafael said this to him, it stopped him in his tracks despite being on an incline and looked at Rafael with great moroseness. He had known when Rafael asked to accompany him on his next hike that Rafael must have wanted to talk to him about something supernatural-related, since they were not personal friends despite their mutual respect for one another, but he had not expected it would be something so depressingly impossible and dearly wished by him as that. Getting away from Anita was all that Richard wanted to do ever, and had been ever since being bonded to her by that wretched triumvirate. Time and again he would try, but then something--her through the bond, perhaps--made him return. His return would start first by seeking out women who merely looked like her, and end by going back to the real thing, usually towing the poor replacement along so that Anita got the satisfaction of lambasting and humiliating her,almost as if he were offering that as a gift to make up for having been away. It was so cruel, so cyclical, and he could never stop it. He couldn't even stop trying, which led him to believe Anita must enjoy it and thus her influence was what made him keep doing it. He hated to push responsibility off himself like that but it was the only explanation he could find.
Richard told Rafael exactly what Rafael had expected: to please not to tease him with things that weren't possible, that neither of them should try, especially not Rafael because, unlike Richard, whom Anita needed around as a whipping boy, he was expendable to Anita. He wasn't sexy and he wasn't white; only being a male leader in St. Louis had made her determined to extract a boffing from him in return for her protection. Protection meaning she wouldn't do to him what was done to Joseph, of course.
"That's the thing, I think it really is possible," said Rafael, even as Richard turned away, "Listen, Lucille might not have beaten Anita, but Anita didn't beat Lucille either. She was right there in her stronghold, and you saw what she did to Micah and Nathaniel, but she didn't go after her! Even with that massive elemental power upgrade she got, she just left and went back to the Circus!"
"Maybe she didn't want to Lucille on while she had all her people with her and Anita didn't have any, " said Richard hesitantly, but Rafael said what he knew Richard was thinking,
"Oh come on, since when has she ever been half that sensible? And she wouldn't need her people, not when she could have just struck everyone with lightning or willed them all on fire and whatever else she can do now!"
"She doesn't actually need guards for a lot of things but she still drags them along with her anyway because she thinks she does," countered Richard, though his tone was more self-doubting still, "Maybe that was the case here. She didn't think she could."
"Wait, you think she totes those guards around everywhere because she thinks she needs them? I thought she just wanted to make people look at her."
"Well...that too," Richard admitted, biting his lip, "Same thing with the guns, you know? I'm sure she still thinks she might need those, though."
"Hopes, more like."
Richard said nothing to this, and so Rafael went on, "Look, back to my original point, I think we have a shot at getting away from her if we ally with Lucille. I don't think anyone can beat her the way she is now, no, but at this point all I want to do is get my people away from her without repercussions, and you can't tell me you don't want the same. You're too good an Ulfric, and too good a man not to, even with all that she and that vamp have made you into."
"And what if you're wrong?" Richard's face had turned hard, as had his tone, "Think about what would happen to my people then!"
"Your people are going to kill you if you don't do something!"
Richard's eyes widened, "What?"
Rafael told him what Wander had told him and Lucille that Shang-Da had said, finishing with, "And this is from one of your pack members. Your Hati, I believe."
Richard was shocked, and wondered if Shang-Da had told this as a lie to the opposition for some reason. But then why then wouldn't he have filled Richard in about the ruse?
"I can see this is a surprise for you," said Rafael, not without a touch of sympathy, "My bet is he and Jamil have been keeping how bad things are from you."
Richard's face snapped into a snarl, "How do you know how bad or good things are in my pack?"
Rafael kept calm, "I don't, but it must be bad if your own Hati has to protect you from them. And I don't blame them. The wererats were all raped through me once, and they should have killed me for that...but you hand yourself and your pack over to her entirely. Why shouldn't they come to despise you for that?"
"That's so she won't kill us!"
"And yet it's going to make them kill you! You're trapped, Richard, more than I am, more than the Rodere is, risking this makes even more sense for you and yours than it does for me and mine!"
And Richard knew that he was right. He stood still for a moment, looking down, then asked in a flat, hopeless tone, "How do you think I can keep this from Jean-Claude? Anita isn't in my brain much, just her desires jerking me around to come back to her, but he uses our bond to scour my head for exactly this kind of thing."
"Well", said Rafael, "He wasn't able to reach her when she was with Lucille, was he?"
***
Now that it was daylight (according to his watch, anyway; he hadn't left his underground room since the ardeur) Hiero knew that he had to move, had to get out of here now. He couldn't stay here another moment, not in the room where such a terrible feeling, such a terrible thing had happened to, not anywhere within miles of the place, not one more second! He barely bothered to pack, shoving in only what he needed--passports, wallet, a few protective charms--to his pockets, leaving the rest of his luggage behind and not caring, which, from such an admittedly material person as him, told much of how desperate he was.
He made it out the door of his room, and though he got lost a few times in the winding halls and curving corridors of the Circus underground, he made it up the stairs and had just opened the big doors to the above-ground section...and standing there waiting for him was Anita, flanked by Micah and guards.
"You see?" said Micah, "Jean-Claude was right. He's trying to leave, and without telling anyone...even with Lucille dead, that looks awfully suspicious, Mr. van Pelt."
"Dead?" No one had come to tell him what had happened, so this was the first Hiero was hearing of it. The news sent a cold stone dropping through his innards; he had wanted his cousin stopped, not killed. "Are...are my friends okay? The ones she was controlling?"
"I see how it is," said Anita, "You come in here, pretending to help us, using your magic to cover up from the vamps and shifters that you're lying, and now that things went south for you and your friends you're trying to sneak out before we realize it!"
"What?" Hiero stared at her like she was speaking gibberish. None of that had made any sense to him. He looked to Micah and the guards to see if they were as confused as was. They, however, were too used to her insane troll logic to show any reaction.
“You’re a threat,” Anita continued, stepping forward. Electricity crackled in one of her hands, while a small flame erupted around the other, neither element harming her flesh…but sure to fry his. “We can’t tolerate any threats. We have to protect our people.”
“But Jean-Claude also said he could still be useful to us,” said Micah cajolingly, placing a hand on Anita’s shoulder, causing her momentary distraction by making her think about how he was exactly her height. “He might know things we need to.”
“I don’t know anything,” squeaked Hiero, as much as a big man like him with a deep voice could squeak. He realized right after it was out of his mouth that it was probably the worst thing he could have said, because if he didn’t know anything then there would be no reason for Anita not to kill him. Then he saw the grin from Micah. Micah knew he was innocent, that he knew nothing, he just wanted to watch Anita torture him with the ardeur for 'information' before she realized he was worthless. Micah could smell lies, but he didn’t need to, he and Jean-Claude both knew full-well that Hiero had been nothing but sincere in his offers of help, and they also knew perfectly well why he was leaving now. Jean-Claude had been inside his head, inside his desires, and he knew how much the ardeur would terrify him, and he had told Micah to be ready today for when he bolted, so they could catch him before he was able to get to the cops. And just as predicted, here he was. If Micah was lucky, he could get Anita to use the ardeur again on the big lug before they killed him. She’d not fuck him herself, sure, but Micah would still get off on watching. Anita, of course, was too easy to convince that he was fleeing from guilt instead; he might be tall, muscular, and handsome with long hair and unusually-colored eyes, but he was still just a human, witch or not, so she had no reason to believe anything good of him or want to see him spared.
And he would not have been, if not at that moment a call had come to Micah and Anita from their cells from the guards who had been scouting the school ahead of time, telling them that the school was still standing, perfectly intact, and from what they could tell still inhabited.
“Well,” said Micah looking at Hiero after he hung up, “It looks like you’re going to be useful after all.”
