Feral Female - September 21, 2008 12:54 AM (GMT)
Before we get started on this tale in the world of Divinity Maine and some of its otherworldly inhabitants, I wanted to take but a moment to try to explain what you're going to be getting involved in. This tale and the one that Houndstooth is writing, Fall of Grace, are both set in the same world, yet are separate tellings. You'll notice as the twin stories progress that a great deal of the characters are similar, and that a great deal are not. This is very much on purpose, as HT and I are hoping to open up a vaster plane of story telling for you to enjoy!
Both stories will run independently from each other, but we may also interweave our original heroes, heroines and other super natural creatures together as the two plots move along. So, with that being said, I hope you'll enjoy the work that Houndstooth and I will set before you, and that you'll grow to care about our characters and the choices they make as much as she and I do.
Feral Female - September 21, 2008 12:55 AM (GMT)
It strikes me as I sit here about to put pen to paper that this is perhaps the latest in a long line of offenses I have committed against my own kind. I am about to , again, break edicts set down centuries ago by the fore runners of our race and yet I find I do not care. I proceed with this telling not in any self absorbed quest for immortality as you humans do when you write, no. For me it is more a profession, better still a confession, that propels me to explain why I do what I do. I ask that those who come after me, and there will always be more, do not judge me too harshly. For I am, or was, first and foremost a man.
A man who's mundane existence was shattered hundreds of years ago, but now I find much to my chagrin that I am still possessing a heart. Fallible though it may be, it has lead me through the centuries in search of the one. Ironically it was Gabrielle. I hope when you find this Porsche that you will laugh the hardest, for you always held me in such regard and to see how far I have fallen will, I hope, amuse you. For the irony in this tale is that Gabrielle is the last in the Ven Helsing line. And I am a werewolf.
I will allow those non lycanthropes who may unwittingly find this attempt at redemption a few moments to absorb that last pronouncement. We have always been here, keeping to the childlike edges of your darkest fears. Unsettling isn't it? And not just us. There are those who live among you even now, in this day of advanced technology that when you see them on the bus or street your base instincts make you take that step back?
I know you are familiar with the feeling. The unknown rush of fear, fleeting yes, but in your inner psyche self preservation primal as it is makes you slide away from them when they settle beside you on the subway. They too have many names, as we do. But for this telling we in this pack merely refer to them as ' The Thirsty Ones' or Them.
Actually to be honest things are easier for our kind now than they were when I was a novice. For as technology and science have moved to the fore of society, the tales and superstitions of the past have fallen to the wayside. When I was first on the hunt people lived in greater fear of my kind and the others. The Thirsty Ones, the witches and sirens. So few believe in the old wives tales in this day and age that we mingle with great ease in your world. For that I am grateful.
And if you humans stop and think you know we are here. You have differing names for my kind, since yelling out 'Werewolf' in the intersection of your town would be frowned upon by your local mental health providers. So you have invented other monikers for my kind...Sasquatch, Yeti, Chupacabra, You call us myths or missing links and snicker at the poor fools who believe. I ask now who among you is snickering???
But I digress and for that I apologize. I'm sure as this macabre foray into my life unfolds we'll touch upon Them. If not, I will not loose much sleep over it. Again I break another rule in telling you my name. In for a penny as they say. I came into this world so long ago the memories of my parents are vague and misty for the most part, but my sire named me Dominick Raphael Kane.
Reflecting back at my childhood one wonders if death by the plague that took my parents wouldn't have been a kinder fate. Don't fret over that too much, as I have begged whatever savior the masses are worshiping to answer that lone query. He, she, it never does. But my kind do not rely on the posturing and pontifications of the church overly much. We are damned and we know this. We do what we must to survive. The church seeks to obliterate us. It has been this way since time immortal and I have no reason to think it will change any time soon. We'll touch upon the Vanguard later in this lengthy tale I'm sure as they play a pivotal role in our lives.
Our lives. How cocky and self possessed I am to include Gabrielle in that statement! But she and I, our kind, the hunters and the wolves are so intertwined that to try to unravel us would be like trying to pull a lone silken strand from an intricate tapestry. Perhaps I should bring this confessional back some?
I think my mind carries me forward in too great a haste to speak of Gabrielle. I'll touch briefly on my past so that you understand how I came to be here, in Divinity Maine. Hopefully you will glean a small amount of sympathy for our plight. Or perhaps you will merely slink into the lyrics of an old rock song and toss our race in with the devil himself.
I will admit to having a few very clear remembrances of my childhood. Brief crystalline pictures of my mothers hair, golden spun wheat toned with russet streaks. Just as mine is. My fathers deep, booming baritone as he sang aloud at the mill while I played in grist of wheat. They are intermittent at best, but know that there were happy times for my small family. Even in a provincial hamlet such as ours outside of London we were content. Then the plague set upon the populace. As I force the memories there is one of my mother worrying to me about my father, her reluctance to allow him to deliver his stone ground milling's to the city. I was 17 at the time, that I am firm about in my thoughts. For it would be eighteen months after the death of my parents that I would encounter Lucian Yonescu for the first time.
After I had carried my father to the raging pyre that burned day and night in our villages small square I wept. I wept for man as a whole of course, but mostly I wept selfishly. For my pain, my loss, my fear. It seems my greedy nature has not been quelled over the centuries. For if it had would I have let Gabrielle so close to me? Would I have allowed this unrequited love of mine for her to blossom? I am not the wonder that my dear Porsche seems to think I am, despite the unique code of ethics I enforce on this band we call pack.
My mother lingered longer that I also am sure of. Why I didn't contract the black death I still do not know. Lucian seemed to believe I was saved from the humans disease for a higher purpose. Even now I dare say I cannot see what this purpose is. So now I was one. Alone amid death and decay, my small home rife with the smell of the funeral fires. I took what I could carry and left, never once in all my hundreds of years going back to that valley. The memories that are faded, or suppressed if one were to listen to Porsche, would drown me alive.
I traveled far from the stink of the cities, taking jobs where I could. Stealing if necessary. Survival is the strongest drive in any creature. No. I now think it pales in comparison to love. And I speak not of the act of reproduction for that is a flash in the pan, a quick slaking of sexual thirst. Love, companionship, this is what bumps survival from the top.
A love struck werewolf, it even makes me chuckle to read the waxing poetic I take at times! Since my life was nothing but one gray time after another, I shall bring the telling forward. To the night I met Lucian. The night that he also was looking not for survival but for companionship.
Let me side step and explain to you how your movies differ from the reality of dark creatures just for a moment. There need be no full moon for our transformations to occur. That is a concept made popular by modern fiction writers. As I sit here now I can transform into the wolf if I so choose. It is a simple matter once learned that requires no magic, no shimmering silver round orb over my panting head. It would happen in the blink of your eye and you would never draw another breath. If I so choose.
Another fallacy is that silver will kill us. Do not rely upon a casted bullet made of precious metal to drop a werewolf in a killing rage. There is very little that can end our lives. We are almost eternal, much as They are. And in the mentioning of them lies one of the reasons for the animosity that steeps between our kind and theirs.
A werewolf can be killed only by complete destruction of our hearts or brains. I do not worry about telling your kind this as none but a few of you could do so. Not to sound too arrogant, but you simply do not possess the strength or courage to reach into my chest and rip out my heart. But They do. They know this, as we know how to end their lives. We have eternally been stale mated.
Moving on now since I see my time grows short, when I came upon Lucian that fateful night along the road I could not know that the obsessive need for another of his kind would set me to this path I walk. I hold nothing against him now, although for many years I cursed him repeatedly. He was alone. And I was a soul lost in the depression of my own loneliness. He could sense this I'm sure and his remorse afterwards was genuine and pure. We are pack animals, not made to be solitary.
He and I bonded as we walked that desolate lane skirting Newcastle upon Tyne. Time passed as we made our way to Scotland. Two men seeking the same thing it appeared to us then. I had just turned 19 but Lucian was older, in his late thirties perhaps. We had been roaming across Aberdeen along the North Sea. Months had passed in each others company, but I was even at that age looking for more.
I do recall this day with startling clarity. We stood in a pasture rich in heather and sheep dung, our shirts tied about our lean waists, when I had told him I planned on going back home. I explained how I had grown weary of being a vagrant and wished to take up my fathers mill.
It was this warmest of summer days that I for the first time saw that deeply hidden side of Lucian, much too late though. The strike was fast and quick. I jerked back more in alarm of his mouth to my bare shoulder than in pain. The misery would come swiftly though. The wound was large, ragged and already bleeding profusely and perhaps it was shock at first that made me merely stare into his eyes as he fell back with my blood on his chin, his canines bared. His eyes that had always been a deep brown were now translucent red rimmed with a thin circlet of gold.
“I cannot bear to lose you Dominick” he choked out mortified at his lose of control. Then I screamed. I screamed and tumbled back from him, falling into the scented heather with my arm over my face as already the tainted saliva was coursing through my system.”I am sorry Dominick. Please forgive me” Lucian begged all traces of his curse gone as quickly as they appeared.
I must leave this biographical account for the time being as I hear Porsche calling up from the first floor. We are already late in departing but They will wait. For this evening we meet in the pine woods of Divinity with our most hated of enemies in hopes that we can set forth a temporary truce. Things in the Vanguard are not as they should be, innocent lives are on the line, my beloved Gabrielle's among them. And though she knows not of my affection for her, I shall do all in my power to keep her safe. Even go so far as to parlay information with vampires.
Feral Female - September 27, 2008 12:15 PM (GMT)
Divinity- Issue #1
The universe is change; our life is what our thoughts make it.
Marcus Aelius Aerelius
Several Months Earlier
“You should go Gabby. It would do you good Gabby. It's your last weekend before classes start on Monday Gabby. Gah!”Gabrielle mutters to herself as she winds her way back from Long Lake, her mothers always nudging words replaying in her head. She rolls the window up tight as the thick, moist air of the Maine woods overpowers the sluggish heater in her El Camino. She shivers slightly in the thin green sweater she had borrowed from Alison lake side, then commences to beat her right fist on the heater dial.
“I should have listened to my first instincts” she sighs as a burst of warm air slips from the vents for a moment. Although it was late August the nights chilled quickly here in Northeast Maine, and some warmth would be nice she stews, blowing a wispy chestnut strand from her face. Another burst of heat, then it fades. Much like her well planned night she contemplates as her high beams attempt to illuminate the thick fog coursing off the lake that runs for miles along Route 1.
She squints her deep brown eyes at the mists that creep over the black top still miffed at the whole horrid excuse for an evening. When would she learn not to listen to her mother? Not that Sarah Devon wasn't an intelligent woman, she was. She ran the Divinity Public Library with a graceful ease that Gabrielle envied. It was her mothers personal philosophies that differed so greatly from her daughters. Gabby fiddles with the small black knob, trying to turn it past its highest setting as her thin fingers were turning blue she was sure!
Getting her soulful eyes back on the winding stretch of Route 1 as she should her nose wrinkles at the recollections of the past three hours. As always she had been the odd man, or woman, out. Her best friend Alison had begged and pleaded, even pulling Sarah into the wheedling until Gabby had tossed the book she was reading aside in a very well played childlike snit and capitulated.
“Should have kept my nose in Twain!” she grumbles slowing down a bit as the fog off the clear mountain lake was thickening by the second it seemed. She really despised how mundane she was, how lacking in any great skill she seemed to be. How her friends from high school all had seemed to pair off, leaving her to sit on a big cold gray rock while couples huddled under blankets around the roaring fire.
Now finally the blower seemed to be pulling some heat off the engine. She sighs at the warm gust moving over her frigid fingers as they held the smooth black steering wheel. At least her mother would be happy she'd gone. She wouldn't have to hear the well meant, but still condescending platitudes her eternally optimistic mother seemed to not be able to contain. Years of reading classic love stories had made Sarah a bit TOO enthusiastic in her ideals Gabby ruminates. If love were so grand, so mind numbing and so life altering wouldn't her father be at her mothers side?? Sarah never had a pat answer for that one.
She lightens her touch on the gas just a wee bit more, dropping the burgundy Camino to under 45 now. The old saying of pea soup was appropriate in this situation, since her visibility was decreasing more the further she traveled from the lake house Alison's family owned. The lake house. Gabby pulls a sour face. Let them all have it! It wasn't like she had ever been the most popular girl in Divinity High. No, her looks were to foreign, too dark. Her thick dark tresses and eyes came from her father Sarah would comment wistfully as Gabby would roll her eyes. The tale of earth shattering romance would follow whenever the comparison between the blond, blue eyed mother and the almost Mediterranean looking daughter would come up.
“Her father was dark too, very brooding, very serious and austere. But I was eighteen and it was Romania!” Sarah would sigh, her pale blue eyes would drift back to her tour of Europe, a graduation present from her parents eighteen years ago. Gabby would let her mind wander to more practical things like grades, checkers, dog toe nails, anything that would spare her the story of a man who swept the innocent maid off her feet and then left her pregnant, never once looking back.
“Men!!” she blurts out then snickers at her outburst. Talking to herself yet again she shakes her head as she drops down to 40 now. Wouldn't it be just her luck a moose would leap out in front of her?! Well, technically moose didn't leap but the point was made she supposes. She needed her old El to get her to DCC come Monday morning at 8 sharp. She loved the thought of collage, of the prospect of finally being an adult. Of finding something that would make her stand out. Maybe. Maybe she thinks sadly her one claim to fame would always the annoying, and embarrassing way her body reacted to fear. Her mind would snap every door closed around her, and her fear would focus down to whatever it was that had scared her.
Her hastily gathered ponytail shakes back and forth as images of her cowardice bulldoze through her mind. The dog two blocks over when she was ten, the man at the grocery store. She feels the hackles rise on her neck as she thinks of him. Sweet guy, never did one thing wrong to her, but when he was bagging the groceries her tunnel vision, or whatever it was, would zero in on him and try as she might she couldn't shake it!
“Big chicken! Scared of Tom the grocery clerk! Careful Gabby hes got a tomato!” she chastises herself, again. She offers up a quick prayer none of her professors at DCC were scary like the bag boy at the Super Checker market. “God your so lame Gabrielle Devon!” Her chocolate eyes look over at the radio to grab the time. Midnight. My how time dragged when everyone was making out and you were poking a used marshmallow stick into the, her eyes go wide and she slams on the brakes. Gabby's seatbelt cinches her tightly as the half car, half truck slams into the biggest dog she had ever seen. The sickening ' THUD' and accompanying howl of pain as the front bumper smashes into the beast makes her cry out in a mix of fright and remorse.
She screams, white knuckling the steering wheel as the bear sized animal rolls over the hood and explodes into her windshield. The glass spiderwebs as the car skids sideways, the rear bumper connecting with the guard rail that separates Route 1 from Long Lake. She stares wide eyed at the massive golden head as the dog careens over the roof, and she swears the animals eyes were sky blue as they seem to lock souls for a frozen instant in time. Then its gone, tumbling over the roof with horrid thuds and crashing into the bed of the Camino. She didn't realize she was screaming so loudly until the grating sound of metal on metal stops as the car twists sideways and finally smokes to a standstill across Route 1.
With the engine still blowing warm air on her now pale face she swallows repeatedly as she sits in shock for a moment.
“Oh God, oh God, oh God” she mutters, her hands still holding the ebony steering wheel in a death grip.”Oh God I just killed someones golden retriever!” she chokes out, her hair falling loose to tickle her ashen cheeks. She shakily fumbles with the seat belt, trying to get it to release her. Her chest felt bruised already from the snap of the belt when she slammed on the brakes. Cold fingers eventually get the clasp to pop open and she draws in huge lung fulls of air over and over. Poor dog she thinks, where the hell did it come from? It had just appeared in her lane out of nowhere!! She knew it was dead. It had to be! She lifts her dazed head to peek into her rear view, hoping not to see a bloody, mangled family pet lying back there.
Her sharp eyes scan the bed in the mirror, but find no trace of the dog. So she leans up a bit more attempting to get a look trying to ignore the rich smell of antifreeze filling the cab. The bed was empty?? No she shakes her head in confusion, no that couldn't be! Not as hard as she had hit that huge dog. No its back there, it has to be!! Again she lifts her bottom from the thin red blanket that she used for a seat cover and checks the mirror once more. Nothing. She falls to her seat as her blank brain scrambles for a small grip on reality. What the hell????She tamps down the tennis ball sized lump in her throat and slowly opens her drivers side door. Maybe the bear dog had bounced from the cab!
Yes! Now your using your valedictorian brain Gabby! It smashed down and the momentum flung it out to the road. She likes this reasoning, it was sane and solid. All things she liked a great deal! Yes, that was what happened she repeats to herself as she steps from the cab on legs wobbly as cafeteria Jell-O and looks behind the deep red El. Her pretty face goes slack at the empty stretch of highway behind her. Drying her damp palms on her denim covered thighs she steps tentatively around the rear of the car and squints down the dark road. Seems she would see a Sasquatch sized safflower bear dog, even in the thick mists that make her hair slightly soggy.
Taking her time, since her knees seem to have turned to Silly Putty she stumbles around to the passenger side still looking for poor dead Fido. Gabby puzzles and puzzles then drops to her hands and knees, seeing the huge steaming puddle now forming under her car. She lowers her dark head and peeks under the frame hoping, and yet not really wanting to see the deep yellow bear dog crammed under her axle. As the tips of her chestnut wisps dip into the antifreeze she finds absolutely nothing under the vehicle either. Now she falls back to sit on her legs as she listens to the hissing and spraying of her radiator emptying its contents on Route 1. Her common sense tells her that this is impossible, simply against the laws of nature and physics! A dog, even a Sasquatch bear dog did not get hit with that much force and simply leap up and trot off!! It did not happen that way! Could not happen!! That dog had to be dead from the internal injuries alone!
How long she had knelt in the middle of old Route 1 Gabby has no idea, but her legs cramping pull her from the conundrum and she stands eventually. Working her bottom lip as her clever mind races she knows she has to look at the front of her beloved El Camino, so with small hesitant steps her sneakers carry her to the front of the car.
“No way” Gabby whispers, looking down in addle pated blankness at the damage. The front bumper has been driven back into the engine in a perfect oblong shape. As she gapes the engine stalls letting the silence fall around her, only the snake like sound of her demolished radiator taunting her.
“No way!” she mutters to the damned golden bear dog who did this, and then didn't have the courtesy to die! “Sorry, that was wrong. But no damned way!!!” she yells out stamping her foot in anger and splattering her pant legs with warm green liquid.
”MY CAR!!!! DAMN YOU!!!” echoes through the vast forest that cradles Route 1. The watchful sky blue eyes peering out from under gold and russet streaked fur drop for a moment knowing he already was before the lupine streaks off through the pines.
Feral Female - October 4, 2008 12:30 PM (GMT)
He had covered 50 miles in less time than most took to walk to their post box and gather their subscriptions, and still his powerful legs carried him on effortlessly. The steady pounding of his paws striking the cool Maine soil was usually soothing to him, but now his mind strayed back to the woman on Route 1. Pines thick and damp flash by, a blur to mortal eyes but not his. He finds his mind battling with itself, was he right to run? Or should he have lingered near her? Neither choice good for her and yet.......
His lungs fill and empty with ease, his tongue lolling out the side of his crushing jaws when he first picks up the scent. Locking his legs he comes to an almost immediate stop, his nails plowing up red soft soil and spent pine needles. Had he really felt what he thought he had felt Dominick ponders while his golden snout lifts to work the thick night air. He pads about in a circle then, growling rumbles emanating from his wide furred chest.
The smell of Them was unmistakable, fetid and sour to his ultra heightened olfactories. Their stink filled his sinuses and he sneezes trying to dislodge the odor so he could think rationally. His pads move him in a tight circle as he debates on the possibility of his search finally being over. Dominick pauses, his thick brushy tail held high as he tips his head to the left a fraction, sounds infinitesimal filtering into his large pointed ears.
Even in the distance he's put between himself and the accident scene he still sees her, still hears her, still finds her aroma in the foggy air. A sharp snarl accompanies the jerking shake of his head. If he could hear her and smell her, so could They. Be she his 'one' or not he could not, would not allow her death to fall on his thick shoulders. They would not find a meal so easily if he could prevent it!
He tenses and leaps over the river that runs down through this familiar state woodlands with ease, all four feet touching the heady undergrowth with the slightest touch then he's off once more. Long sure strides on legs made for this, crafted for one thing and one thing only. The hunt. And curse his damned soul to Hades for his hunger this evening! Damn him for allowing himself to become lost in the beast so deeply he had not heard her vehicle until it was upon him.
Stupid irresponsible behavior Kane he condemns himself severely, taking the subtle trail deer hunters had worn through the woods. For now his lust for the feel of the 10 point bucks throat in his jowls may have left her vulnerable to the coven. The thought comes to him to call for Lucien and Porsche for they too roamed these vast forests tonight, their desire for meat as over powering as his, but he decides against it. No need to announce their presence to the bastards. Not that they did not know wolves hunted under this moon. For they did he knows, they too were designed for killing. Predators sculpted much as he was, only they would never again revel in their humanity.
He will keep his sharp senses alert for his family, but he will not summon them. If he spies the ebony flash of Porsche's glossy fur or the now muted gray and chocolate of Lucien's then he'll bid them to join. He would pray the stench he had detected was only rolling off of one lone vampire. That would be a match fairly made he reasons as he now nears the thinning tree line that designates where the Corp of Engineers kept the roadside trimmed back.
If he came upon a whole coven, he was assuredly dead. The odors are now complex, varied and rich. Human trash and exhaust assail his nose, his mind rapidly deciphering each individual smell. As the russet and gold lupine comes into the mowed bank along Route 1his hackles rise. For on the gentle lake breeze now rides the bouquet of Godliness, his paws scrabble to grab purchase in the dew rich short grass while his ears flatten over his immense golden head. He could go no further for to do so would surely bring death from the Avenging Angel that now hovers invisibly over his young woman.
Dominick slips back into the inky darkness of the trees placing each paw carefully as his mind races at a frantic speed to recall Lucius` tales of the former Knights of the Crusades. Warnings told to him hundreds of years ago since there were no substantiated writings on the Vanguard. He had kept himself well away from the Knights, for in his fledgling years of lycanthropy he had killed wantonly and greedily he was now ashamed to admit. Once and only once had this unique aroma filled his nostrils, and how he had escaped with his life that night he still wondered.
The Vanguard were immortal since drinking the blood of Christ, or so he had heard. Even now they still seek out and destroy all the Church deem as 'demon races', their immortality costing them their own admittance to Heaven. His sharp eyes still can not see the Churches executioner but his nose pinpoints the source of the immaculate aroma. As he moves his wide head from behind a tree he once again gets the heady smell of righteousness pulled deep into his soul. And even as this minuscule divine touch of the angels presence makes his inquisitive eyes burn and water he finds he cannot leave, for she yet stands in the road. The woman with eyes ancient as his, the woman who he has yearned for, burned for over all his centuries. Her eyes had claimed his wretched soul and even the golden sword of the Vanguard would not pry him from her now.
Gabrielle walks in circles in the middle of Route 1 with her mothers cell held high over her tousled dark brown head.
“Come on just give me a signal!” she pleads refusing to look at the wreckage behind her. A quick motion and her hopes plummet as the bars on the screen are still flat. She gives into the small petulant fit that threatens and throws the phone into the grassy berm.
“God dammit!!!!!”she shouts at the top of her lungs, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she watches the small green cell roll down the slight embankment to stop at her small gray sneakered toe. She couldn't even throw something away right! Her breath then seems to catch in her throat while her muscles freeze. Her chocolate eyes are fixed on the man who now appears before her in a flash of light and try as she may she can not move. If she could she would surely fall to her knees for she knew the visage of an angel, her whole life spent every Sunday learning the churches ideals. Until she grew old enough to form her own opinions, but maybe her skepticism had been wrong.
“I swear I won't take his name in vain again!”she gasps feeling a small tear leak from her eye and trail down over her cheek.
“Gabrielle Van Helsing?” he asks void of any inflection while holding in his strong right hand a sword of purest gold.
“Devon” she squeaks watching as this tall man with short hair white as snow steps closer to her. He studies her for a brief moment intently, his face under the closely cropped ivory beard reveals nothing.
“Do you not bear the mark of the Trinity?” his tone is soft and soothing as his left hand reaches to lift the errant ponytail from her neck. The merest touch of the back of his fingers against her skin and her lungs suck in a huge breath.
“T,T,Trinity?” rattles out of her.
“The mark of the Holy Trinity bestowed upon your ancestor and passed down through his lineage. Upon your skin you carry the three eternal rings. Father, Son, Holy Ghost” he states as his proof lies with the small birthmark at the base of her neck. No larger than a quarter is the mark of the Van Helsing covenant upon her flesh. His lean fingers drop her hair to now stare deeply into her moist eyes.”Did you this evening dispatch one of the demon races without offering it repentance?”
“N, N, No” she replies her hands hanging limply at her sides.
“Do not lie to me Gabrielle. Van Helsing or no we are to offer the lost ones the chance to reside at the right hand of God.”
“Who-are-you?” she inquires wishing to know the name of this angel of death since only people close to dying saw heavenly visions. Maybe a semi ran her over and she didn't know it?
“My name is Joshua. I am one of the Vanguard. Are you not aware of your duties bound in blood to us? To the Church?” his voice never wavers from its emotionless pitch but his burning green eyes question her.
“I'll start going back to church I swear!” she whimpers afraid now to die and leave her mother alone. A lone call from a loon on Long Lake sweeps around them as he stands stoically deep in thought.
“If you are trying to deceive me I shall soon know” the angel comments then places his fingers to her damp cheek. Gabby's mind seems to stall, to linger in a place warm in faded memories of childhood, then as his fingertips leave her skin she crashes back to this moment in time. His head is now tilted a small bit as he regards her seriously.”You speak the truth. And yet how is this that you do not know of your obligations? Has your mother not spoken of your fathers sacrifice in his service to us?”
“My father?”she whispers softly and his head nods but once yet she swears she saw a brief softening as she spoke the word father.
“Gideon Van Helsing. I need to call counsel. I shall return to you tomorrow at this time” he informs her flatly. Then he's gone. As quickly and magnificently as he appeared he vanishes. Her legs sway and she collapses to the black top, her hand falling beside her mothers cell. Gabby shakily pulls in deep huffs of fog laden oxygen, finally dropping to sit alongside the thoroughfare in a mild trance.
“Gideon” she repeats his name quietly to herself. “Gideon Van Helsing” again his moniker falls from her. A frown furrows her smooth brow as she tucks some loose tendrils of darkest chestnut hair behind her ear. All these years! All this time her mother had kept his name hidden from her! Why?? Why keep his name from her? How did he die? God but there was so much she wanted to know, needed to know. “I'm a Van Helsing?” she utters out loud thinking that her mother and her were overdue for a long, long talk!
Its at that moment a gut-wrenching mournful howl rises up from straight ahead of her in the darkened wood lands. Gabby's hand flies up to cover her mouth for fear the agonized cry would tear a reply from deep within her. The animal was suffering terribly she could tell as she smothers a sob of commiseration while the plaintive keen slowly fades into nothingness. She sits frozen to the roadway in panic yet again then the phone rings beside her without warning and she squeals in fright. Tenderly she finds the cell while peering into the ebony forest, her shock complete when she realizes just a moment ago this phone was dead.
Feral Female - October 11, 2008 12:15 PM (GMT)
Gabby stands in the open passenger side door of her mothers new hybrid Prius with her arms folded on the powder blue roof watching the gaudy fluorescent orange tow truck from Jeph Wilson's Collision and Repair trundle down Route 1. She wonders if this is what a parent feels like when they release their child's little hand on the first day of kindergarten. Okay, maybe she was being a wee bit melodramatic, but that El Camino had been her baby, her one means of independence.
Maybe she could drive the Prius to the counseling sessions she would be having soon. Her confused head falls to her folded arms with a smack in sheer fatigue and mental befuddlement. Its her mothers very precise throat cleaning that raises her dark head from the soft sleeves of Alison's pretty sweater. Across the baby blue roof her moms soft blue eyes are boring into her.
“Get in Gabrielle”Sarah states softly yet firmly, her soft shoulder length blond hair covered in a soft pale blue scarf. Are we seeing a pattern here Gabby sighs as she falls in and slams the door shut with attitude.
“Don't slam the door Gabrielle” Sarah comments putting the import into drive,”Close it softly.”
Everything her mother did was soft, gentle, graceful, poised and at times down right flighty in the daughters opinion. They travel in silence for a good stretch, Sarah's silence conveying how very upset she was with Gabby now. Not upset about the El that now was alone for the first time, being parked with strange collided wrecks as opposed to being in its nice comfy,”Whats the number for the Divinity Mental Health Group?” Gabby asks suddenly. A quick stern look from her mother at that comment, then Sarah returns her attention to the road.
“I just can't believe you were driving so fast in this fog Gabrielle!” her mother chides barely creeping. If they were doing twenty Gabby would eat her antifreeze splattered jeans.”What was your hurry? Our insurance rates will double!”( This speech coming only after Sarah had ascertained her precious child was indeed safe and unharmed.)
“I was speeding from the hell that is young adults in full rut” she mutters sullenly reaching back to rub her sore neck with her right hand. Maybe she had whiplash from hitting the Sasquatch bear dog? Maybe she had a concussion so severe she hallucinated the angel that spoke to her of...her fingers tighten over this supposed mark of the Trinity on the back of her neck. Her deep brown eyes move to her mothers profile. Sarah's eyes roll behind her soft blue rimmed glasses as she toddles along.
“I swear sometimes your channeling some ancient Druid soul Gabrielle” Sarah comments as they finally make the left off Route 1 that will wind them back into the outskirts of Divinity. Gabby lets her attention wander from her mother ( since she knew where that opening gambit would lead ) as her eyes look out the window to her right. She continues to rub the birth mark absently as Sarah's smooth voice fades away. The shrouded black night outside the window calls to her and she finds herself deeply intent on her reflection for some reason.
“Perhaps if you would open your mind to new things and stretched your inner self to the wonders around us you'd get some positive life force back from the Earth. Don't you want to find........”
As the white mile markers crawl past Gabby finds another pair of eyes looking back at her in vivid recollection. Beautiful sky blue tinted ones that spoke to her in a split second of vast pain and eons of loneliness. She actually feels a shiver course through her even with the Prius blowing warm air across her face. Those eyes she thinks, she would never forget those eyes.
But being a woman most practical she forces the sight of plaintive canine pools from her mind. She had much more important things to dwell on than a bear dog with a gaze that would forever haunt her. She had a lineage now that needed to be throughly researched and for some odd reason this was something she felt she needed to do alone.
The incessant whirring wings of a June bug around the soft yellow porch light prompts Porsche Giordano to lift her ebony head up from the book she held unread on her lap to cast the large insect a measured look. The cool misted air carries the strong scent of Dominick to her nostrils way before the massive golden lupine breaks from the tree line that surrounds the white two story home. She comes to her feet and lays her book on the wicker settee as the were-male lopes forward.
She had patiently waited on the front porch that wound about their home for him to return from hunting. She knows his mind is awash in pain and turmoil, she can sense this. They were always linked in this way. Not telepathically of course, but empathically. They knew the desires and needs of the others in their family for the wolf pack could not survive otherwise. Some things were too deeply instinctual to ever be forgotten she reasons for life depended on a cohesive group in the hunt.
His paws carry him to the center of the yard in a determined yet defeated fashion. Porsche had felt his anguish for the past two hours, his angst making her decide to be awake for his return. The three in this 'pack' knew each other very well. Her dark brown eyes take in the man as he instantly transforms back to his human state. The nudity of him does not offend her. How could it? The strength and raw masculinity he exuded was primal and intoxicating even to one who looked upon him as a brother.
He towered over her 5`7” frame, his russet and gold head close to 6`7” in human form. In lupine form on his rear legs he rose taller than ten feet easily. She sighs watching him gather up the bundle of clothes left on their porch for his usual easy smile for her was non-existent this early morning. The safflower bug bulb in the porch light by the screen door covers his chiseled body in gold, enhancing the tawny cast to his shoulder length hair.
“Do you care to talk about it fratello?” she inquires softly, brushing some thick locks of black hair from her face. He affords her one quick glance as he tugs on a pair of dark blue jeans over thighs thick and corded, hips lean and male.
“Wheres Lucian?” he asks while snapping the copper clasp on his trousers. She knows him well enough that his clipped, short British tone doesn't offend her as it would others. He was upset over something she knows firmly now, chewing on her lush bottom lip as she breathes deeply. No stink of Them came from him, only his own well known aroma and a touch of something else....antifreeze????
“Profondamente addormentato”she replies crossing her arms over her firm breasts covered in the soft pink sleep shirt she had on. Dominick nods at the statement, he spoke Italian fairly well since she had been at his side for well over a hundred years. He pulls a thin blue tank top on over an upper body thick with muscle and sinew.
“Wake him from his sound sleep then Porsche” he tells her firmly stalking past her to enter the quiet home.
“Why?' she asks following on his heels. Always curious his Porsche was Dominick thinks tugging his shirt over lightly furred sculpted abs. “You know the hunt always does him in. What eats at you so fratello!?”
He appreciates her calling him brother, for he was eternally grateful for her undeserved affection, but his thoughts are on other things far more important to him.”The Vanguard is in Divinity”he speaks over his wide shoulder as his long legs carry him into their kitchen. He was starved, mad almost for the taste of meat. Porsche gasps loudly behind him and quickly crosses herself as he flings the refrigerator open to pull out a Styrofoam tray of ground beef.
Its then that Dominick turns to pin her with scarlet eyes rimmed in gold that slip from the raw flesh in his huge hands to her wide eyed stare.”And a Van Helsing has also come into our midsts. Now go wake Lucian and leave me alone to feed!!” he snarls aggressively letting long canines flash, the rumble deep in his chest. Without another word the she-wolf spins on her pink socks and streaks off. Even now, after all this time he cannot abide having anyone see him feed like an animal. It disgusts him, this feral need that sometimes runs rampant over his humanity.
The cold raw meat is not what his feverish blood howls for, but it would do. It would slake the desire for now he admits ripping the cellophane off in his rush to appease the beast inside. Perhaps it would help make him forget her eyes, her smell, and most importantly......her ancestry.
That night 11:57 P.M.
Gabrielle paces the small confines of her room as she obsessively checks the small alarm clock that glows scarlet numerals atop her bureau. The angel Joshua had said he would return to her at this time tonight and she was ready for him. She had a barrage of questions for the man...angel. ...head trauma induced apparition....whatever the he, heck he was. She quickly pulls her dark hair into a lop-sided ponytail to keep its thickness from her neck since her room was oppressive in the late August heat.
She had awoken today at well after one in the afternoon, her exhausted head resting on her keyboard. She must have slept through her mothers calls for church. Sarah did not attend, but for some odd reason had made sure Gabrielle was raised Catholic. Another quirk in her mothers off beat thinking Gabby admits.
“Why do I need to go when I have an angel coming to visit?”she mutters causticly standing before the oscillating fan that sluggishly moves the fur like heat over her. Maybe she should put something more appropriate on? What did one wear when having an avenging angel over for a midnight visit? A straight jacket her friends would tell her if they ever got wind of her speaking about it.
Another look at the clock reveals its midnight. She scowls, her fine brows knitting over her alert dark eyes. He was late! How very rude for a hallucination who claims to be a destroyer of demon races! Maybe they had no clocks in heaven. But they did in the psych ward that nasty facetious voice in her head chimes up.
Her usually calm self pads back over to the second hand computer desk while the sounds of the still house engulf her. She folds her legs under her and settles into the black rolling seat, already wishing she hadn't. The faux leather sticks instantly to the exposed flesh from her cut off denim shorts and the DCCC tie dyed tank top she had on. Her mother had been out most of the day today while Gabby had been sleeping or researching.
Off gathering herbs and wild flowers, becoming one with nature. Oh yes, she really did do such things the daughter shakes her head sadly. She lets the foolishness of her mom go as she gathers up the reams of paper she had printed out, eons of information, most she had just barely skimmed over. All relating to the Van Helsings that this angel told her she was related too. She lets the steady hum of the fans tired motor soothe her jangled nerves as she begins to read one of the many sheets...
Dr. Abraham Van Helsing-Born in Amsterdam, D.O.B. Unknown. Professional credentials-expert on obscure diseases, philosophy, metaphysician carrying degrees in the fields of medical doctor, doctor of philosophy...
The blinding flash of pure light behind her startles her so the papers fly from her hands as she spins about in her seat. The riveting green eyes of the snow haired angel Joshua run over her with that air of indifference, then he bends to retrieve a slip of paper from the well worn pile of the carpet.
“You seek information?” he inquires pulling his gaze from the page to her wide eyed face. She swallows and nods slowly while her heart does a triple beat in her chest.
“I need to know what and who I am. I need proof!” the young woman exclaims and at this she sees a white brow rise on his complacent face. Oh God she pissed off an angel with a sword she screams internally wincing in anticipation of the smiting to come.
“For most mortals the word of an angel is sufficient” Joshua tells her, and for a fraction of a second she thought she had heard the barest tone of.....wit??? His long fingers drop her white paper to the floor before he removes from the folds of his clothes a package wrapped in yellowed, dirty paper tied with rough twine. Her dark eyes find the contrast of the angelic form holding the filthy bundle out to her rather odd. But then again, in the past twenty four hours what in her life couldn't be considered odd Gabby admits as she reaches out with quaking hands.
“Whats this?” she asks careful not to let her fingers brush his as she takes the offering. A rivulet of sweat runs down her neck making her spine shiver. This was one of those moments you read about, a defining minute that will forever alter your life she knows, she can feel it welling up to encompass her.
“Inside you will find all you need to know. Open it Gabrielle Van Helsing and see what your father left for you” he tells her with no inflection in his deep voice.
Feral Female - October 18, 2008 09:42 AM (GMT)
Gabrielle places the package on her trembling bare knees and raises her umber eyes to the placid vermilion ones that appraise her steadily.
“You hesitate? Not a trait I have come to associate with your lineage” Joshua states calmly.
“I'm a little freaked out here to be honest. I'm sure you can see why!”she tells him and he inclines his head minutely.
“You shall learn to overcome your self doubts”he informs her standing above her, his sword resting in a scabbard of richly detailed iron at his side.
“Oh sure” she mutters forcing herself to tug on the thin twine that holds the frail paper tight about the contents.”Easy for you to say Mister Angel with a blessed sword.”
“Your acidic tongue does mark you well as Gideons daughter”she hears him comment but the merest hint of sarcasm falls on her now deaf ears, for on her damp legs lies her heritage. The stifling air moves over her bare neck then rifles the yellowed wrappings as she silently pulls one of two daggers from its sheath. She balances the seventeen inch dagger in her palm, measuring the weight of the weapon. The handle is worked in glowing bronze with a large circle at the hilt containing a mark she's well familiar with. A shudder goes to her core as the deep scarlet tassel attached to the hilt flutters in the fans wake.
“This cross worked into the circlet, its the cross of the Templar Knights” she remarks casually as the serrated blade warms to her touch. Her gaze never leaves the ornate dagger.
“Correct, it is the mark of the Knights Templar. Are you familiar with the history of the Warrior Monks?” his deep timbre fills the room, and yet it does not. She nods quickly as her fingers wrap about the smooth bronze handle.
“They were a monastic military order formed at the end of the first Crusade to protect Christian pilgrims on their journey to the Holy Land”Gabby whispers absently moving the blade in arcs through the thick air,”They became very powerful, even the King himself feared them as they were immune to any authority save that of the Papal throne. After the Crusades they went on to serve with Richard the first and other monarchs in battles for the holy lands.”
“Correct” he replies and at this her chestnut head leaves the perfectly weighted blade to stare at the man who still stands as he did before, not a movement has he made since his arrival.
“Were you a Templar Knight?”she whispers as the other items begin to slip from her legs. She hastily gathers the matching dagger and the thick book back then finds his face in the semi-darkness.”I read they were all burned at the cross. For heresy by the order of King Phillip.”
A fleeting look of agony races across his emerald eyes, then its gone.”We are not here to discuss my history Gabrielle.”
She nods knowing she had prodded a trifle too much, again, as always.
“Those daggers have been in the possession of a Van Helsing since Abraham was first anointed into his holy duty. From him they passed to Gabriel, from Gabriel to Issac and from Issac to Gideon. Now they rest in your hands Gabrielle. They are blessed weapons, carried initially by Hugues de Payens the first Grand Master” he explains.”Before your father died attempting to bring down Christofor Eliade in Romania he swore my covenant that they would pass to you. So they have resided deep in the inner recesses of the Papal palace. The journal....”
“Whoa! Whoa!” Gabby exclaims pointing at the heavenly messenger with the Templar`s dagger.”My father never knew of my existence! My mother has told me ad naseum about her brief fling with her dark, stoic lover Gideon. She left Europe before she knew she was pregnant and when she tried to track him down later she couldn't find him. And who's Christofor Eliade? Is he a vampire? Are there vampires? Well of course there must be since your here and telling me he died fighting one but I have to admit its all, did you want to answer me?”she asks at the deep sigh he makes as his thick arms cross over his soft ivory tunic. She hastily drops the dagger to her lap to rest on the tome.
“Gideon's acerbic wit, Abraham's innate curiosity and Issac's penchant for wordiness. You are thrice blessed”he comments down at her and she smiles sheepishly back at him.”Read the journal of the Van Helsings. In its pages you will find all you seek about your ancestry. As for your mother” he pauses then as if listening for something. Gabby whips her head about to her closed door but no sounds come from the other side. “Read the journal. Now I am bid to anoint you as all of your lineage has been before you. Kneel before me Gabrielle.”
“Why?”she inquires warily gathering up her treasures and clutching them to her breast as she quickly rises. Like they would prevent his blade from piercing her chest if she said no! Duh Gabrielle she chides herself. His austere aura swirls about her now as he holds out to her a vial no larger than a thimble. It seems to gather all the light in her room as it rests in his calloused palm.”What is that?” she asks wondering how she sounded so calm when her heart was about to explode through her tank top and flop on the floor like a trout.
“It is the blood of Jacques de Molay, the last Grand Master of the Knights Templar. As they swore themselves to protect the pilgrims so have each of your ancestors made the pact. Kneel Gabrielle” Joshua commands her yet again in a voice without emotion of any kind.
“If I do let you anoint me, do I have to go out and stake vampires?”her calm demeanor now gone it appears as her voice cracks.”I have a crushing course itinerary for the next four years and vampires weren't on my agenda.”
“You will be a knight for the church as your father was, and his father before him. Set forth to eradicate the demon races from this planet, to protect the pilgrims and the innocents from the dark ones minions. I promise you there is no pain if that is your concern woman.”
Her spine stiffens at the chauvinistic tone he assumes.”I'm not scared of a little pain. Its that I'm not sure I'm really cut out for all this! I have a wicked yellow streak! I'm scared of the bag boy at the grocery store! And how do I fight a vampire!? Did you bring stakes?”her dark eyes pin the Vanguards man firmly.
“Your mother was lax in her raising of you as a Van Helsing. All this should be rote at your age”he states roughly.”You are functioning under the assumption that your sense of danger is fear. It is not. You possess the 'gift' all Van Helsings carry, the power to sense evil. To know inherently when you cross paths with dark forces. That will be your greatest asset. As for the combat training I have been set forth to be your mentor until you are able to take down the dark ones yourself.”
“Wax on, wax off Mr. Miagi?” Gabby asks giggling in a high nervous peal, even though shes really trying to appear fearless and accepting of being a vampire hit man. Hit woman. Whatever!!! His ice cold stare calms her titters immediately.
“I have not the time for your attempts at humor Gabrielle. This is not a duty to be taken lightly or with mirth. Many have died in their sacred service to the church. Now I bid you only once more, kneel before me and be anointed” Joshua tells her his thick leg brushing against the sheets of her rumpled bed. She peeks down at the daggers and the soft leather book she clings too. Her father had held these blades, used them to fight against demon races. He had died in his battle of good versus evil. Could she do any less?
“Christofor Eliade. This man that killed my father, was he a vampire?” she asks turning slightly to lay her fathers endowments next to the softly humming computer then coming back to face him. She does not waver in her perusal of the angel before her.
“No. He is the Alpha male in the largest clan of werewolves in Romania. No lycanthrope holds more power than the Eliade pack. Your father died at the hands of a werewolf”he explains, his right hand gripping the minuscule bottle tightly. Gabby nods once, then drops to her knees at the soft leather boots of the angel. Her dark head bowed almost to her chest she swears a silent vow to the sire she had never met that she would gladly take up his mantle of protector of the innocent. And God forgive any werewolf that should cross her path!
His fingers on her chin startle her from her pact with her father and her entire body freezes, every muscle bound tightly as he touches a drop of the centuries old blood to her forehead with one long finger.
“Sigillum Militum Xpisti” Joshua whispers in Latin making the mark of the cross on her damp skin. Gabby gasps loudly as the birthmark on the back of her neck sears suddenly to life. Pain hot and red for a blinding moment then it abates slowly.”The seal of the soldiers of Christ” Joshua translates for her as her dark eyes sputter fire.
“You, you said it wouldn't hurt!” she hisses fighting the tears that well in the corner of her chocolate eyes as his hand still touches her cheek.
“I did”he comments dryly as his fingers fall from her face. She staggers to her bare feet, clutching the bureau for support as the mark remains warm under her flesh.
“You lied????? Since when do angels lie?!”she spits, rubbing her neck gently now as he raises one lone ivory brow.
“Rest now and read. I am needed elsewhere. I shall return at this time tomorrow night and we shall begin your training” Joshua informs her curtly then in a flash hes gone. She scans her bedroom while still holding the back of her sore neck. Not a sign of him anywhere, as if she had yet again imagined it all. But the daggers that lay on the scratched computer stand aren't imagined. Either is the thick ancient book bound in darkest leather. Her small bare feet propel her to the stand and she carries the book to her bed, collapsing atop the wadded up blue linen and opening the cover reverently. Holding her head up with her hands and crossing her ankles she lies on her stomach, her pain from a moment ago forgotten as she finds four simple words scrawled with a horrid handwriting....Herr Dekter Van Helsing
Gabrielle leaps from her mothers Prius leaving the passenger side door open. She slings her overstuffed denim bag over her right shoulder and races across the plush grass, a strawberry Pop-Tart hanging from her mouth. Darting and weaving through the large elms and oaks she hurdles up the wide steps leading into Simons Hall two at a time as she tries to remember if she brushed her hair in her mad flail this morning.
The halls are empty. Damn!She was SO late! She paws in her bag, shuffling her books and folders aside to find her class schedule. She could kick her own butt for reading so late into the night! Her mothers gentle calls had done zip until Sarah had pounded on her door. Gabby's head had flown up from Herr Dekters journal at Sarah's announcement she was leaving in five minutes. She could still feel the wrinkles from the creased pages on her face she swore.
“Where the hell, crap! Heck are you!?” Gabby growls, whipping her tangled chestnut mass from her face as she digs. Finally she yanks the well crumpled paper from between her Economics and Biology texts. Reading over it hastily she finds her first class is History of Western Civilization 101 and of course its located in Seaton Hall and not Simons! Well they both started with an S she huffs then streaks out the side door to the smaller building across the large campus.
Another race down another vast corridor until she skids to a halt at room 304. She pants as she reaches up to pat down the holy horror of her hair. Umber eyes grow wide when she remembers the blood of the last Templar Knight on her forehead. Wouldn't that make a snazzy first impression on the tottering old history professor she grumbles taking her schedule in her teeth. 'Excuse me Miss Devon' he would wheeze from dried old man lips' But theres a cross of dried blood on your forehead and its frightening the other children<Hack!>'. Doddering old fuddy-duddy!
“Oh holy hell! Yes I said it!”she hisses skyward, wetting her right index finger and rubbing it over her forehead. No wonder her mom had given her such an odd look when she had leaped into her car in a pair of jeans she had taken off her floor and the same DCC top from yesterday.
After a brisk scrubbing in spit she gathers herself enough to turn the burnished knob. Then it happens, as soon as the portal opens the smallest iota the panic hits. The flesh on her spine creeps while her tunnel vision narrows, blood rushing rapidly through her ears as her shaking hand falls from the knob. Great! Was Tom the bag boy and his killer tomato in this class?!? She wanted to bolt but the doors moves silently open, the class of twenty or so now openly staring at her frozen in the doorway.
One faltering step in and her sights narrow to one person and one person only. Her brain fine tunes down to nothing but the huge chiseled male now regarding her with eyes as clear blue as the summer sky outside. He was the most stunningly handsome man she had ever laid eyes on she acknowledges as a wild strand of gold and russet hair drops over his brow. And he was a werewolf if her 'gift' were working right. The very same Sasquatch bear-dog that had totaled her El. Those eyes gave him away.
She can actually hear him breathing, all other sound is gone she notices. As her damp hands tighten into small fists the man inhales deeply, as if he were taking her scent into his inner being somehow. She can almost sense his unease and she wishes she had packed the Templar daggers, her palms itch for them now. Then he cocks his head just a fraction of an inch, like the lupine listening in the forest primal and he smiles at her. Her knees threaten to let her down at the beauty of one mans....wolfs!! Werewolf!! Dark beast!!! Killer of infants!!! Feeder of flesh!! Chaney of Lon!!!!
“Your late Miss Devon” his words roll from his wide chest. Deep, sensual and refined with the merest touch of a soft British accent.”Take your seat and we'll continue.”
Okay. She could do this Gabby thinks tripping over her feet to the only available seat left, right in front of the wolf. Super-De-Duper. Wonder if my Womans Lit. teacher is a ghoul?
This is a picture of the Knight Templar daggers that I have gifted the Van Helsings with.
Feral Female - October 25, 2008 12:06 PM (GMT)
Divinity-Issue # 5
“So in conclusion, I'd like to see your essays on the basic formation of anthropological societies and its effects on primitive man on my desk by Friday” Dominick lets the large moan settle down before he continues from his spot leaning his denim-clad rear on the front of his desk, his hands casually gripping the edge, ankles crossed. Her head rests in her hand, thick waves of deep chestnut hair covering the thin-boned wrist that supports her small head. Her eyes were now on the notebook as she absently scribbles the assignment next to a crude drawing of what he assumes is a wolf. Or a very follicle-rich hippopotamus if he turns his head just so....
His gold head comes up rapidly from Miss Devon's ghastly artwork to the brunette in the pink tee in the rear of the class.
“How many pages?” she asks in a tone that rings of exasperation. Had she asked previously? Bloody hell Kane, snap up mate!
“Five Miss Jones. And yes” he adds quickly as the bell begins to ring and seats screech across the floor,”That is five Word pages. Also, read the first chapter as we'll be discussing the advantages of life in a pack for the Neanderthal.”
At that those old rich eyes of hers come up to pin him. Gabrielle Devon Van Helsing. He lets the rhythmic cadence of her name tumble about his mind while she crumples up the lined sheet into a tight ball in a shaking petite fist. That she knew what he was went without question for her anger and hate rose to his nostrils like a dark bouquet of disdain. My but he was waxing poetic wasn't he? Rather glib of him since he now looked down on an enemy sworn and sanctified by the church. It must be the whispered appreciatory comments that the other females in his class make as they gather up their books that lifts one corner of his mouth despite the chits glare burning up at him.
“Question Miss Devon?” he inquires. Oh he knew she must have millions, being a novice as she was. He could almost see the score of them racing behind the dark chocolate of her smoldering gaze. When her mouth opens, then closes, then opens yet again only to pop closed he cannot help but raise a brow at her lack of language skills.
“No Professor” she grinds out through clenched teeth. The smell of her was like nothing he had ever encountered before that night by the lake...feminine, musky, darkly sensual mixed with archaic blood and sanctimony. He inclines his head a fraction as the class moves out his door, a few discreet womanly gazes cast at him as the students hurry by.
“Could I have a word with you Miss Devon?” trips from his tongue causing her to drop the notebook to the floor. The small cluster of girls, Miss Jones amongst them, begin to whisper with heads together as they drift past him with soft fare-wells for him. She bends to grab her notebook without removing her now wide eyes from his face as he bids the young ladies a good day.
“I have to get to Economics” she hastily explains while jamming papers and books into her bag roughly. Dominick nods once as the halls outside are loud and moving.
“I know you may find this class below your intellect but I would appreciate it if you at least had to courtesy to look at me when I'm on a very interesting caffeine-fueled dissertation Miss Devon. Or perhaps you'd prefer some tutoring when you fail my class?” Oh he knew taunting her was way past foolish, but the way her dainty jaw set into a firm line, and her full bottom lip tensed at his prods, well, he was treading some very dangerous ground here to be sure.
But the aroma of her ire mingled with the faintest wisp of desire had his blood dangerously close to allowing him a fatal mistake. For novice she may be, the daggers of the Van Helsings flashing as they carved out his heart would be the last thing he would ever know. He had seen those very same Templar blades used with devastating results by Gabriel once, and by this womans father. Once.
“I know what you are” his ultra-heightened hearing picks up her faint snarl over the din of class changes as she flings her over-flowing bag on her squared shoulders.
“Do you Miss Devon?” he crosses his arms over his chest still poised and collected with his bum on his desk.”And what pray do you think I am?”
Shes about to hurl the name at him he can tell when the bald head of David Mafford pops into the portal asking about coffee during their shared free periods coming up . Gabby slams her mouth shut and storms out, past the man who teaches her U.S. History sixth period class.
“Do read chapter one Miss Devon. I'll be interested in hearing your thoughts on the subject tomorrow”he calls and wonders if the woman got any tenser perhaps her shoulders would swallow her pretty head completely?
“Making friends with that austere British wit again Dom?” Mafford chuckles stepping briskly out of the steam-roller that is Gabrielle DevonVan Helsing.
“Looks that way David” Dominick comments wondering if a werewolf should be so bloody intent on the round swaying backside of a Van Helsing. More than likely not he concedes but continues to enjoy just the same. Oh yes, destruction leaped closer with each moment she was near him.
Later that afternoon
Dominick steps across the threshold of his home, the warm aroma of freshly baked bread filling the light open house with a smell that had led him along from the Audi as soon as he had pulled into the graveled drive. Flinging his attache case to the over-stuffed tan sofa he pushes through the door to find Lucien removing large loaves of pungent salt rising bread from the oven set into the red brick wall.
“I knew it would bring you home Dominick as it did last time all the way from the highway” the older were-male comments with the thick accent of his native Romania while he sets the twin loaves on wire racks to cool. His cloudy white eyes coming slowly from the baking to find Dominick easily in the homey kitchen.
A small flicker runs across the mans face as he removes the red and white checkered over mitts to push his peppered brown and white hair from his heated brow.”You are anxious yet today Dominick?” Lucien questions following the huge male with sight-less eyes as he drops into a seat at the square table.”I find no smell of Them on you” he says working the hot air that blows in through the open windows, a lip raised showing fang at the mention of vampire.
Dominick studies the man who waits on his reply. He may have lost his vision to a vampires venom, but as is usually the case his other senses have magnified for the loss. Lucien could now out-track he and Porsche combined. It wasn't smell or hearing though that lets the Romanian know Dominick's unrest now, it was the empathic bond they shared. Kane grabs the small pitcher of iced tea and fills a tumbler full chewing over just how much and what to say to Lucien at this juncture.
The ragged scar that streaks across his shoulder under his gray tee was a gift from Gabriel Van Helsing over a hundred years ago. The left socket slow to heal from the Templar daggers wound, and to this day his gait was off when in wolf form. He tired easily due to the once grievous wounding and his pride and temper would give no ground to any who bore the Trinity upon them. This Dominick had seen when Gideon Van Helsing had tried to speak to them almost twenty years ago in Europe.
“I always find the first day of classes rather trying” Dominick mutters off-handedly as he raises the sweating glass to his lips.
“Ahhhh” Lucien nods once then pads around the kitchen to stand behind this man who once was Beta but now, due to time, vampires and the bastardly Van Helsings was now Alpha to this small pack. His olfactories find each molecule that drifts off his pack-mate, each finite scent bead now races to his brain.”This unease, it would not have to do with the lingering smell of the Vanguard that you reek of would it Dominick? Where is the Van Helsing whelp?”
The tone of the query that rumbles from the elder were-males throat has Kane up in a blur of movement, the glass shattering to the cool blue linoleum at his feet. Both males issuing thunderous growls of warning to the other.
“She can do us no harm Lucien!” is snarled defensively across the chair that lies on its side in a pool of cold tea and lemon halves. “The girl has just now learned of her heritage. It will take years for her to hone her hunting skills. I see no need to take her down like a helpless rabbit kit!”
Another toss of the gray and cocoa head brings the milky eyes straight to the towering man across from him.
“You wish to breed her. Traitorous bastard!!!!” he growls, the last word dissolving into a feral rumbling snarl as the man transforms instantly, clothes flying off in shreds. The attack is something a human would never see coming, but Dominick is no longer human. In the merest shard of a second the huge gold and russet wolf leaps on the table, snapping the legs under his weight as Lucien dives onto the larger wolf.
The pair explode through the screen door out into the backyard, two snarling, snapping male wolves tearing at each other in the brittle grass. Clumps of thick fur catch on the humid August currents as Dominick takes advantage of the weakness of the other male. Kane rolls to the top as the sound of growls deep and bass filter through the thick woods surrounding the placid house. In a move inhumanly strong he plants one huge safflower paw on the wide pelted chest under him as jaws capable of grinding human leg bones to powder snap down on the throat of the chestnut wolf. Lucien feels the vibratto of the dominant males long resonant growl as he holds him pinned on his back.
“Abbastanza!!” the she-wolf shouts out a mere second before the lithe lupines ebony shoulder slams into Dominick, knocking him from atop the underdog. Rolling to his paws his light blue eyes find the thinner raven wolf standing in front of Lucien, her head down while her black upper lip rises exposing her pointed teeth. His head dropping also he stands his ground watching as Lucien struggles to his feet and limps into the woods favoring the front left leg visibly. His fury now leeching out of him Kane lopes up the four small steps with his plush tail dragging over the refuse of the screen door, leaving the svelte she-wolf standing alone in the darkening yard.
Gabrielle stuffs her Economics and Biology books back into her bag when her dark eyes fall to the sheathed daggers resting inside the denim tote. Another gentle reminder from Prissy the night librarian that the library was closing in two minutes whispers down the now darkened rows of books. Hefting the tote to her shoulder Gabby pats her bag. She had learned a great many things her first day of college she reflects while she says her goodnight as Prissy locks the stout doors of the Divinity library behind her. Padding down the cement stairway to the sidewalk she tips her head back slightly, lifting her thick hair to allow the somewhat cooling breeze to move around her bare neck.
What had she learned this first day of academic betterfication she ruminates walking slowly under the old oaks that lined Cummings Street. Well for starters she had never realized just how many other-worldly creatures moved about us. By the time her last bell had rung she had been mentally exhausted, despite the nap she fell into in Economics. Being sensitive to the assorted beasties was draining beyond belief! But why did she sense all of them now so much more intently?
She had always had strong feelings around some people she acknowledges. So many questions she had to get answered she reflects as she walks. Thankfully only one of her professors had sent her alarm bells peeling. It had come to her earlier that she needed a great deal of instruction on how to tell the good demon races from the bad, if there was even such a thing as a good dark creature.
She stops under a rustling oak beside a buzzing street lamp suddenly, her mind snapping from her pondering to alert her to something, somewhere. With her pulse throbbing in her ears she scans the dark street rapidly as her right hand slips into her bag. Sweat breaks out on her brow despite the blissfully refreshing wind coming down the boulevard. Something was close, she can feel it deep in her chest, but what?? She can't find the damned, crap! Darned daggers!! Note to self she frantically thinks, find a way to carry weapons on body but concealed!
“Hi!” said cheerily behind her and she barely keeps the scream in as she whirls about while her fingers finally find the hilt of one dagger. The little girl smiles up at her and Gabby lets loose the breath that was stuck in her lungs.
“Hi” she stammers tenderly releasing one blade from its sheathe as she looks down at the child. Innocent big blue eyes framed in a round face with corn-silk like blond hair peer up at Gabby as she stares into the shrubs in a small yard behind the child. The branches of the swaying tree move back and forth making the street light they stand under seem to flicker. A storm was rolling in over the summits, Gabby could smell the moisture in the freshening gusts.
“Shouldn't you be inside?” Gabby asks while her mind continues to howl at her that evil lurked nearby. But where dammit?!
“I don't live here” the child replies in a voice high and soft.”My names Amanda. Whats yours?”
“Gabby”she states automatically gripping the bronze handle with a damp palm, her hand still buried in her bag. She didn't want to whip out a seventeen inch blade in front of an eight year old kid.
She gives the little girl a fast glance when the sky lights up over their heads.
“Devon. Where do you live?” she asks the softly smiling cherub even as her spine threatens to crawl up to her neck. Where the hell was it?!
“Over by the garage” her sing-song reply is almost carried away by a huge downdraft as a jagged bolt races from heavy cloud to heavy cloud.”Can you take me to my mommy?”
Gabby pushes some loose chestnut tendrils from her face and scans the girl who's hair is dancing about her perfect pale face. She places her free hand on the child's shoulder then with a nod begins to lead her over a few blocks. She had wanted to stop at Jeph`s collision anyway and reassure her El she still loved it.
“Over by Wilson's body shop right?” she inquires as the child bobs her head yes serenely then reaches up to tug Gabby's hand from her shoulder. Fingers tiny and cold as ice wrap about Gabrielle's left hand as they cross the small street and cut through shifting ebony yards. Wondering if she should color-code her panic status the child begins swinging their clasped hands back and forth and singing a nursery rhyme. Red would be highest. Red would be meeting a gorgeous hunk of were-flesh face to face. So that being the highest she may now be in orange. The fingers gripping the Templar blade handle are prickly from the death-grip she has on it.
“Pockets full of posies.....” and the girl drops to the grass giggling beside a well-used swing-set in the backyard they stand in. Crackling forks race over-head as the thunderhead moves closer whipping branches to and fro while setting the creaking plastic swings into motion. Gabby tugs on the girl to get her up because orange may be rapidly clawing its way to red.
”Gabby Devon?” Amanda inquires as Gabrielle jerks harder to pull the child from her pink shorted bottom to her sneakered feet.
“What? Get up, come on! We have to get you home its going to pour any second!” Gabby shouts over the wind that whips the swings on their slim chains.
“Mommy wants to know why you lie”her tiny voice is almost lost in the whirlwind that hurtles around them. A blinding flash of lightening illuminates the ashen face that peers up at Gabby from the grass that needs a mower badly.”Mommy wants to know why the Van Helsing bitch lies. Why did you lie?”
Its then that Gabby begins to tug harder, not trying to get the child up but to free her hand from a grip that tightens so painfully she fears the bones in her fingers will snap soon. Soft, muted light spills from a window of the light-colored home not far from the swings.
“Ashes ashes we all fall down!” Amanda giggles smiling up from the lush lawn to reveal small white fangs that slip down over her bottom lip. One blurring fast move and she pulls Gabrielle to her knees beside her still applying ungodly pressure to Gabby's left hand as the deluge begins. “Look Van Helsing!! Mommy's coming to play now!!” Amanda hisses in glee as a square of light falls over the two kneeling in the downpour.
Tears of pain mingle with the rain that pounds down and Gabrielle is sure of two things as she tries to wrest her left hand from the creature while not letting go of the dagger in her right. One is this has blown the bejeezus out of red stud-werewolf panic status.!And two is that she sure as hell does not want to turn around to see Mommy coming out the back-door of the quaint Maine house.
Feral Female - November 1, 2008 11:10 AM (GMT)
Porsche's petite bare feet climb the cool planks of the stairs as the rain batters the darkened home deep in the wood. She knows where to find him even without the scent trail he exudes. Despite the warm glow in her mind that joins them she would know where Dominick was. In his studio. The small rounded room that sat comfortably over the kitchen was his sanctuary. His dark feelings had permeated her thoughts, as did Lucien's until they had faded but a bit ago. A large gust of wind mixed with rain blows in the open window at the top of the steps, and she hurries to close the pane. Passing their rooms she hears his heart thrumming even now as she`s sure he hears the soft rustle of her cool cotton sun-dress as she pads to the open door of the window-rich studio.
Thunder rattles the floors in the hundred plus year old house as she leans a rounded hip into the door frame. Lightening bright and white lights the room as she finds him in front of his easel. His first work lies tossed to the floor, wet tones of red and black telling his mood of earlier. She crosses her arms over her chest as she brings dark eyes to the work in progress. He stands frozen, the palette in his left hand, his right hand at his side, thin brush still held gently in his long fingers.
“Speak Porsche” he utters flatly and she would if she could tear her gaze from the portrait he has half completed before him.
“Lucien has gone across the border”she finally whispers softly as his wide shoulders tense slightly before he resumes his work. He has the lights on, arranged at the proper angles to fall on his canvas.
Her interest climbs higher as his hand moves in smooth sensuous sweeps, pulling remarkable detail from the plain white cloth. She doesn't dare mutter another word, afraid to break the spell his brush weaves. He paints a woman, this much she can tell from the curve of a neck graceful as a swans. Rich dark browns now meld with shades of henna as he adds a thick waterfall of hair down the neck. Porsche has sat behind him for hours and watched him paint for years. His art was breathtaking.
But this, this work, this was something different for him. She had been at his side since he had found her in San Fransisco in 1857and many, many pictures has he created. But none like this! Each stroke of his brush was an extension of his feelings. She tasted the pain, the angst, and her beast could smell the lust. He made love to the woman with each sable brush-stroke.
“Atto d`amore?”she whispers her eyes now moving from his long arm to the eyes framed in the unfinished womans face. He stops instantly and she regrets her choice of words.
“No Porsche it is not an act of love. It's an act of dangerous obsession” he rumbles deeply dropping the palate to a table beside him with a clatter. Another explosion of thunder at the same time illuminating the dark night. His thick hand rakes through the tangle of gold hair that hangs loose, free from the bonds he usually kept it in.
“This woman” she asks still in her spot in the open portal,”Is this woman what caused the dissension between you and Lucien?”
The flailing wind tugging at the pale blue shutters and the deluge of water beating the many windows is the only sound upstairs.
“He knows the vow we took, the code that we choose to live by. I could not allow him to speak of murder so casually” he finally replies wiping a myriad of colors off his hands into a rag still facing the artwork.
“So you choose to try to murder him instead?” her rich accent rolls over him as he looks into those eyes still glistening on the canvas.
“I would not have taken his life Porsche.”
“I am not so sure Dominick. If you wish to fool yourself into thinking you were in control who am I to stop you?” she shrugs casually.”But do not attempt to try to lie to me! I felt the blood-lust in you. That is why I defended him!”
He whirls to face her, whipping the rag that reeks of turpentine to the paint speckled table beside him. Most would cower at the growl that begins deep in his massive chest, but not her. She tosses her wild ebony hair over her olive-skinned shoulder and meets his ice-cold blue stare with her own.
“I'm going out”he informs her stalking to her in the door frame.
“And what of Lucien? Who is this woman that drives a wedge between you and the man you love as brother for centuries?!”she barks up at him as he coldly pushes past her.”Dominick!! Discutere a fondo!” she yells to him as he moves down the stairs.
“I don't wish to talk it over Porsche! Leave it be!” he shouts over the slam of the front door. She stamps her small feet in complete vexation then spins to level a stare at the beautiful eyes on the canvas. The headlights of the car leaving the drive shine for a moment on the painting.
“Who are you bella donna?' Porsche inquires of the portrait almost expecting the artwork to reply so fine was her brothers talent.
I am so dead Gabrielle thinks, torn between trying to get free from the worlds most precocious vampire or lifting her head to try to peer over her shoulder. When a pair of hands fall to each shoulder to wrench her back into a kneeling position she figures that decision has been made for her.
“Mommy's here!” Amanda states releasing her hand as fingers dig deep into the flesh of Gabby's collarbone at the same time she feels the cold press of a body behind her.”Mommy's here! Mommy's here!” the little darling sings rocking back and forth with her thin legs crossed, rivers of cool water running over her smiling precious face. Another form appears before Gabby's blurred vision keeping to the dark recesses of the yard.
“So your the new assassin?” the strikingly familiar womans voice states behind her. The legs braced against her back are chillingly cold as they press into Gabby's soaking wet top.”The new Van Helsing. May I see the churches mark on you?”
“I'd rather not if it's all the..<Hiss!>” Gabrielle grinds out as long fingernails drive into the skin through the drenched shirt she wears.
Movements too fast for her to process spin about the yard, blurs really. Gabby grunts then, her head forced forward. A low disgusted sound comes from behind her then as Amanda disappears, then stands beside her in a ever-widening puddle.
“Mommy? Is she going to kill us?” the curious little girl asks as Gabrielle struggles to place the womans voice.”Is she going to kill us like that other meaner killed Daddy?”
Mrs. Crowlings!!! That`s who stood behind her!! Despite the rain that runs from her flattened sodden head Gabby's eyes widen. Mrs. Crowlings that ran Momma Crowlings bakery over by the Divinity Volunteer fire station. Momma Crowlings was a vampire?! Damn, and I loved those apple-cinnamon turn-overs she made too Gabby sighs sadly then screams out loud as the womans frigid hand clamps about her neck.
“No baby, this one will be eliminated before she can kill our kind like her bastardly father did your Daddy!” Damn but Gideon Van Helsing must have been something to see in action streaks across Gabby's adrenalin soaked mind.
Another barely discernible wisp of movement about the small grouping occurs as Gabby tightens down on the handle of the dagger.
“Let me do it Mom” drops from nowhere and her face is now mere inches from Tommy the bag-boys.
“I knew there was something about you and those damned tomatoes!” Gabrielle chokes as the young man smiles widely at her. He wets his lips in anticipation as Momma Crowlings, baker of world class apple-turnovers, heaves Gabby's head to the right keeping her thighs against the Van Helsings back.
“With my blessings son!”Momma Crowlings coos making Gabby try to imagine the soccer mom with round glasses and a frilly pink apron she bought turn-overs from now intent on ripping her throat open. Or allowing her boy to do so. Moot point which one of the devil spawn did the deed really she allows forcing herself to remain calm.
Gabby swallows watching in the small block of light from the open back door Tommy's brown eyes blossom into pure ebony, the pupils spreading to cover the iris.
“You really should say.....grace... before you eat!” Gabrielle whispers hoarsely as she whips the dagger from her bag and slams it to the hilt in the denim thigh of the Divinity apple-turnover queen behind her. The howl of unholy misery from the woman cuts the snort of laughter off from Tommy as his burning eyes widen.
Gabrielle tugs the Templar blade out ignoring the sucking sound it makes as it exits the leg. At the slack in the now screaming womans grip she fumbles to her feet, hand clutching her fathers weapon, tote hanging off her wrist. Fight? Odds are bad, okay run!! Route 1 is just through the next yard and with her heart drumming she hauls for the highway. Why? She don't have a clue since she has seen how fast those apple-turnover makers can move, but it was the only plan she had. Not a great one she concedes as her sneakers splash in the small puddles in the neighbors yard, but a plan just the same!
Racing around a gas grill while Momma Crowlings curses behind her Gabby leaps over a small hedge to the sidewalk that stretches along Route 1. When the howls stop is when she really pours it on speed wise. Bolting into the two-lane without looking she freezes as headlights glare down on her, then shes taken off her feet by one of the Crowlings. Judging by the weight it must be Tomato-Boy The dagger is jarred from her hand and skidders across the rain-slick highway while her tote wraps about her waist.
The cars brakes screech, and she can smell rubber burning as the silver vehicle hydroplanes on the wet road to avoid the two people sailing before it. The impact with the black-top is horrible, ripping layers of skin from Gabby's elbows and bare legs as the snarling vampire lands on her stomach. She cries out at the pain of her head cracking down to the roadway then hears the sound of a car door wrenching open to the right.
“NO!!!! DON`T STOP!!!GO!!GO!!!” she screams at the good Samaritan as she punches the man atop her. The fact that the blow to his face didn't hurt him is humiliating enough, but did the bastard have to laugh about it? No! Thats just rude vampire or not! “GET OUT OF HERE!!!! she shouts once more punching blindly at the snickering bag-boy on her belly. His frigid hands easily capture her wrists and he chuckles down at her.
The doused road reflects the idling cars headlights, steam lifting from the meeting of cool water and blistering blacktop in the halogen beams when some sound from the left makes both her and the Tomato-Lover astride her turn to look. It's her name being called over the downpour and the hissing man she fends off. Tommy, or the bagger from Hell as she may begin calling him now, drops her left wrist while leaping to his feet.
“Miss Devon. Rather nasty night for a tryst don't you think?”
Her mind runs blank as Tommy Fang-Face stands over her squeezing on her wrist with other-worldly force. Her free hand drops numbly to her tote that spun about her as she collided with the road.
“Professor?”she chokes out a yelp as Tom hauls her up, wrenching her shoulder so hard it cracks loudly.”Ouch that hurt you jerk! Let-me-go!!!”she wails then kicks out as hard as she can driving her heel into the young mans knee. Nothing. Dammit! Dammit! Dammit!! What the hell did it take to hurt one of these..........Duh. She wrestles one-handed with her saturated tote as her captors attention stays riveted on her history teacher.
“I believe the young lady asked you to release her. I'd suggest doing so” Dominick thunders padding cautiously closer. His first instinct had been to change and rip the bloody bastards neck to shreds for touching her, but the nasty parasite had the advantage. He had Gabrielle.
“Nothing stinks like the smell of wet dog!” the vampire spits at the werewolf with a look of disgust on his usually pleasant face.
Bloody hell! He had to get her loose and out of here before he could strike! For if the delicate thing got caught in the middle of .....Dominick catches the blurred arc of metal reflecting in the high beams for just a second then a blood-chilling scream rips from the dark-haired man. He can see the vampire reeling backwards, the red-tasseled handle drove into the mans chest and the delicate thing staggering to her feet and whipping her glorious fall of dripping hair over her shoulder.
“Cram that in your turn-overs Tommy!”she growls, limping out of the mans clawing reach a few feet and bending to retrieve the daggers mate from the blacktop. She stands slowly with the glimmering blessed blade now pointed at him, loose tendrils of hair stuck to her face. She was erotically beautiful and very, very dangerous now waving that damned Templar blade at him.
”Back off Professor!” she warns then her attention is yanked from him to the man now shuddering and convulsing in the road. Judging by the look of horror on her bruised face she has never witnessed death before. And a death from the Knights dagger is a ghastly one he admits as the bag-boys skin begins to slip off his body.
“Get in the car Miss Devon!”he snaps over at her as the clouds keep pouring their contents over them.”Get in the car NOW!”he roars a second before the screeching wail of another coven member comes to him despite the rumbling thunder overhead. He races past her before the rest can appear. He could fight two of Them and win, perhaps. But not with her frozen in place, gagging as the stench of decay and fetid blood rose from the mewling thing in the highway. She would be a distraction that would get them both torn into chunks.
Gabrielle stumbles forward a step as her Professor leaps to the dying mass in the road and jerks the dagger free. Then his head turns quickly and Gabby looks in the direction she came from. What did he hear? What?! Did he see something!?? Merciful Lord what had she done here? She retches at the stink quickly covering her mouth and nose but it was too late, the stench was in the back of her throat. Her stomach empties its contents.
“Go! Get in the bloody car!! You merely wounded one, they'll be coming! Now move!!!”” he commands in a growling firm tone. She nods and falls over her feet, almost going to her knees yet again. He's beside her instantly reaching out to grab her arm. The Templar dagger whips past barely missing the corded muscle of his forearm.
“Don't touch me!!” she warns shakily from behind the wild disarray of her hair. Then she trips to the Audi and climbs in, him right behind her slamming the drivers door.
Speeding away from the scene behind them he gives the woman a fast glance. She's huddled in a ball against the drivers side door, her small right hand in a white-knuckled grip on the dagger that she keeps between them.”Give it to me!”she whispers hoarsely while he checks the rear-view. The wipers slapping a steady rhythm as he goes entirely too fast for conditions he knows.”Give me my fathers dagger werewolf!”she spews the last word out as if it left a bad taste in her mouth. The jagged blade drops from his large hand to her open palm with a soft thud.
“Your welcome Miss Devon. Or should I call you Miss Van Helsing?” he snarls despite himself as he barely makes the turn onto Sycamore.
“How does everyone know that?!?!”she rails slamming into the door at his wild turn.”Owww! Where the hell are you taking me?!?! Tell me wolf or I'll neuter you!” she threatens in her most serious monster-killer tone. If her voice would stop cracking she knows he wouldn't have snorted just then!
“To the hospital. You need medical atten...”
“NO!!! Look at me! Do you know what they did to Sarah Connor!? And she was only talking about robots!!!” Gabby squeaks out holding twin blades pointed at his well-muscled neck.
“Linda Hamilton aside I believe your right. The amount of blood on you would have the police involved. I'll take you home and your moth..”
“Please”she comments dryly pulling his attention from the dark back street to her.”Sarah would light a candle then wave frankincense and clover buds over me.” Without a word he slams the car in reverse, tossing her into the dash this time.”Do all your kind suck as badly as you do at driving?”she snaps righting herself, then jabbing at him as he growls at the barb.
“Would you please stop threatening me with those?! If I had wanted you dead Miss Van Helsing you would most assuredly be dead” Dominick tells her honestly.
“Says you”she mumbles under her breath wincing as she pulls her raw, bleeding legs to her chest. She sits sideways in the seat to keep a wary eye on the breath-taking man, monster! Monster!! They travel in silence for a space, the heater keeping the windshield clear and the steady swish-swish of the wipers until she jars out of her stupor at the engine cutting off. Her daggers lay limply in her hands by her squishy sneakers.
“Hell!”she grunts whipping them back up at him as he studies her closely, his burly arms crossed on the steering wheel.”Where are we?! If you think your going to rip me apart and leave me on some moor somewh...”
“I wasn't aware there were any moors in Maine Miss Van Helsing”he chuckles at her and she bristles. She had not intended mirth to be his response! Terror, horror, groveling at the new assassin who just happened to toss her cookies a while ago. Oh yeah fear me.
The distant rumble of thunder followed shortly by a far-away bolt lights the Audi's interior for a moment showing her his calm perusal of her from hooded eyes. It makes her stomach feel funny again. She barely catches the brief illumination of a home behind him then its dark again. Very, very dark. Her 'gift' is sending snakes down her vertebrae.
“Where are we?” she whispers.
“Welcome to my parlor Miss Van Helsing.”
Feral Female - November 8, 2008 02:31 PM (GMT)
Her hair was what he remembered the most clearly, coming to him first when he allowed it. Shimmering shades of strawberry and scarlet that would perpetually be riddled with bits of straw or perhaps berry blossoms from the her play amongst the lambs. The wide-eyed excitement on her mud-speckled face as he would return astride his mount from the latest holy war comes to him now as his cool green gaze lingers on the deep blue sphere so far below. Joshua waits in this cold vacuum of space beside a flag of blue, white and red perpetually frozen at full mast.
How many stars shone out here? Vast countless millions he knows for he had told her so many times when her small head would rest on his knee. Each star a loved ones soul her mother would tell her then cast him her soft womans smile. Now he wonders which pinpoint of illumination held Margarete in the Fathers warmth. Which winking touch of His brilliance contained the essence of his daughter, Meghan of the berry blossoms.
“I am sorry to keep you waiting Joshua” he hears behind him and turns reluctantly from his search of his Lords heavens.”There were other matters that required my attention.”
“Understood Malachi, I too have pressing matters” he states keeping his attention to the man now moving past the lunar conveyance left on this pock-riddled moon. The cool gray eyes of his fellow Vanguard touch upon him briefly as he comes to stand beside him.
“Indeed you do Joshua” is the raven-haired mans cool response.”And it is one of those matters I wished to discuss with you” Malachi informs him, crossing his arms over his dark blue chest plate.”You are aware of the transgressions she has acquired just this very evening?”
“I am” Joshua replies flatly. He had assumed this was the reason Malachi had called for this meeting. At the counsel this warrior had expressed his views on the newest Van Helsing. His thoughts and Joshua's did not coincide well at all on the matter.
“Have you nothing more to say?” again the cold gray glance falls to him.
“She is new to her duties but she will learn.”
“She dispatched a vampire without offering him redemption. Do you find that to be something so easily over-looked my brother?”
“I do not” Joshua comments finding his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. He casually lets his hand drop to his side.”I will reprimand her for the transgression. Is that all you wished to say? For if it is you keep me even now from returning to Earth to speak with her.”
Malachi remains silent for a moment as he looks down upon the azure orb slowly moving on its axis.”Humans are a weak and fallible race Joshua. They are too easily moved by the rampant calls of lust and greed, envy and sloth to be wholly trusted. Add to that the mind of a female and I am sure you can now see my objections. Take Gideon for example.”
”Her fathers romance with that, woman, was unfortunate yes, but Gideon never forgot his responsibility to the Church. He died in his service.”
“Unfortunate? My but you are truly a most forgiving man Joshua.”
“Are we not bid to be such?”
“We are bid to keep the evils at bay, to enforce the word of the church, to offer redemption to the races who plague that planet you gaze upon so longingly. That is what we are bid. We are warriors for our Lord. Let the priests offer forgiveness.”
“I am well aware of our duties and vows my brother. But to condemn one who's very name has been synonymous with our work because of a small infraction..”
Malachi's dark head turns to stare at the man locked into a stiff stance next to the unmoving flag.”So be it. But know this Joshua, her errors are yours. If you so deign to overlook the humans and their slovenly attempts...”
“Have you been so long gone that you do not recall your humanity Malachi?”
“I recall my vow to church and God my brother” Malachi's frigid tone bringing Joshua's hand to the hilt yet again.”I would caution you to do the same.”
“Noted my brother. Go with God” Joshua replies briskly then is gone in the span of a wings beat.
Malachi brings his gaze back to Earth.”For over two thousand years we have battled for you and you have only come this far. I wonder why we bother” he whispers.
“Thats your house?” Gabrielle inquires with her back flat against the passenger door, her grip on her fathers daggers tight still. His tension suddenly fills the stuffy interior of the car as the rain patters down at a steady but much lighter pace.
“Did you think I slept under the mayor's front porch with his bloody golden retriever?” he huffs, clearly indignant now. Good. No, remember Gabby angry werewolf bad, bad, bad. Just ask Dad. She wishes there was more light so she could see if he made a move to bite her, or do something else werewolfy.
“Maybe” races from her brain and out her mouth without a detour, as usual. She pushes back into the door panel when he snaps out a heated 'Gah!'. Without warning his door whips open with such force the hinges scream out as she hears him wrench the keys from the ignition.
”You Miss Van Helsing are without a doubt the most insulting, insufferable woman I have ever had the misfortune of coming across!” he growls exiting the Audi before she can focus in the darkness. The cooling air whips in lifting the steam and smell of him out the open door. For a moment she sits frozen, her blades making her fingers cramp while she squints her dark eyes hoping to see him. When enough time passes with only the rain and inky blackness for company she relaxes some. A cold shiver races over her wet skin making her teeth chatter a bit.
“I am not!” she shouts, sniffing and lifting her chin a smidgen. When a lone warm light appears in the bottom floor of the home she swipes at her face with the back of her hand, then shudders once more. She was freezing! Her flesh was a solid carpet of goosebumps, her hair was still running down her sodden back, and her legs and arms hurt really, really bad. She hated to think it, but she really did kind of want her mother, airy and space-cadetish as she could be.
But Sarah wasn't here and she was. She was a Van Helsing dammit!! They didn't sit in a lupine-mans Audi and whimper for their mommy's! No!! They rode out and vanquished monsters. And she would too. Right now! She finds her dripping denim tote on the car floor, tugs it over her severely sore shoulder and climbs over the console and out the open door. The interior was getting soaked and for a moment she wants to leave it open so he finds a big puddle on the floor, but she slams it closed with as much attitude as she has. No point to making such a gorgeous car suffer.
As she stands in the steady rainfall, again, she takes in her surroundings. She could head off into the woods that seem to embrace the house, or she could go inside. Woods, werewolf, her head moves back and forth as she ruminates. Woods. Well she might be able to find her way home if she had one ounce of navigational skill. Werewolf. And her wet head turns slowly towards the home.
Was that? She draws in another breath. Wood smoke. Oh God was there a fire inside??? Another raking shiver courses through her. She gazes yet again at the woods dark and deep. Crap. Slushing forward with her clothes plastered to her body she begins to creep towards the light that beckoned.
She comes around the corner of the clap-board home brushing up against a huge azalea bush planted beside the end of a long porch. A glowing amber light showers the surroundings. Wiping water from her dark eyes she skims quickly along the length of the front of the abode, both daggers still in her slippery hands. Gabrielle lifts her head up to see the large front door stands open and her pruned foot takes the bottom step carefully.
Her nerves were alive now. And her 'gift' was making itself known as the next wooden step creaks under her weight. She freezes in place. No sound comes to her, no snapping of fangs or gnashing of teeth, so she steps up to the porch itself. At least she was out of the rain now she sighs inwardly when a snap of a twig in the forest behind her makes her whip about.
“I got you a change of clothes” right behind her and she jerks violently, her squeal of fright bouncing off the thick rain-laden trees. Leaping back her wet rubber-soled sneaker streaks off the top riser as she flails for the railing. The 'thud' of one Templar dagger to the muddy flowerbed, then without warning his arms are around her waist and shes pulled tightly against his bare chest.
Breath Gabrielle something in her brain whispers as her free hand lands over his thudding heart, her fingertips lightly grazing course short hair under pectorals that may have been chiseled from granite. His skin was damp and where their bodies join, arms, torso, thighs, she could feel his amazing heat seeping into her chilled flesh. The dagger in her right hand lies on the thick swell of his powerful bicep.
“Are you alright?” she thinks he asks, hard to tell at the moment since she couldn't hear over her heart in her ears. Don't look up, don't look up. She looks up. Moving her eyes over his Adams apple to find him staring down at her in that golden porch light. Mind and soul shouting at her to run, fight, drive the blessed blade deep into that thundering heart just under your fingers. But she can't listen to any of the warnings for shes found his sky-blue eyes locked onto her. His handsome face is partly shadowed but she knows those eyes are on her, she can feel the simmering heat on her lips. His hair is ruffled she sees, as if he had just toweled it dry while she swallows down something hot and all-consuming lodged between her breasts.
“I slipped” her throat sounds scratchy to her own ears as a small steady trickle of rain water runs just to their left, splattering in the bark and mud below.
Dear Lord and Queen but did her name just fall from his lips Dominick wonders looking deeply at her, drinking in her fine features with vision far above what hers was. He sees her bottom lip quiver before she wets it with her tongue making his already heated blood bubble in his veins. The dagger on his upper arm heats his skin as it rests there tenderly it seems.
Ahhh her scent was maddening! Pheromones were spilling from her, dark and sensual needs that she could not hide from his olfactories. He could hear her heart pumping blood through her, could feel her breath as it tickled across his moist face. He had to taste her. Here. Now. Forever. When his head lowers a fraction he sees her lashes flutter for the briefest of moments, then her soul-heavy eyes break open widely. Fear replaces desire and before she can spit any warning at him hes released her.
“Come inside Miss Devon”he tells her gruffly, turning and moving into the house with a tense stride.
“Oh so now it's Miss Devon?” she chokes out trying to recompose herself some. God but she suddenly felt even colder now that his body was missing from hers.
“I can think of something else to call you if you wish” she hears him say and pulls a sour face, then scurries out into the rain to fumble for her dagger in the rich smelling bark. She locates it blindly then climbs the wet wooden stairs carefully.
When she finally steps tentatively into the large warm house she immediately sees a fire growing in a large stone fireplace and gravitates to it. The door closing makes her leap about once more.
“Your quite jumpy Gabrielle” Dominick snickers, enjoying the flush that rises to her cheeks at his use of her first name.
“Go figure” she comments dryly letting her ruined papers and texts drop to the hard-wood floor.”How do you know who I am?” she inquires keeping her back to the flames, her eyes on him.
“Your one of my students. Your name is on my big educators list, right under Eric Campbell. All we teachers have them you know.”
He turns then, to keep his amusement at her raised lip from her.
“How do you know I'm a Van Helsing? I've told no-one and yet every demon race in this town...”
“We prefer the term demoniacally-enhanced. Or celestially-challenged. Must be politically correct you know!” he tosses out as he lopes past now holding an armful of clothes.
“Are you taunting me?” she hisses still in possession of those bloody daggers he notes. He stops before her, enjoying the pungent smell of anger now emanating from her. Why does this mere chit fire him so he ponders as he extends some of Porsche's items out to her. Those magnificent eyes of hers go from the clothes to his face, back to the clothes.
“Would I be foolish enough to taunt a monster hunter of your caliber Miss Van Helsing? Please, take these and get warm. I promise you your as safe here as you are in your mothers arms”he pleads watching her shudder and shake but still keeping her weapons up and ready. She was a complete paradox, one moment weak with lust in his arms, the next brandishing the Van Helsing daggers about. Poor sodden thing he thinks as she finally wavers just enough to place one dagger to the drenched top of her bag.
“If I stab you will I fail your course?” she snaps back rapidly, tugging a small smirk from him
“Figures. How do you celestially-challenged people know my lineage?” she asks again while grabbing the clothes from him quickly.
“Get changed then we'll talk” Dominick replies walking over to the sofa to find a dry shirt and tug it over his head.”Upstairs, third door on the right is the bathroom.”
“I'm taking my dagger with me in case the full moon pops out from behind the clouds!” she exclaims as she moves to the stairwell.
“As I assumed to be the case. Oh and Miss Devon? Thats a fallacy”he smiles at her as she climbs the steps.
“What? The full moon thing?” Gabby whips him a rather disbelieving look. She sees his golden head bob once in the soft lamp light.
“Yes. And the silver bullet 'thing' as well. You haven't studied much have you?” he inquires with a twinge of the learned British Professor to the query. She 'Hmph`s' and climbs the steps, tossing her soaking wet tresses over her throbbing shoulder with a great queenly air as she goes. His grumbling chuckle follows her to the second floor.
She pads down the hall slowly, her sneakers squishing as she walks on the long dark runner. As she goes tenderly (since her alarm bells are still ringing although not as loudly) she notices the walls are covered with artwork. More so than most homes would have it seems. The light is sparse up here, one open door casting its soft illumination to the entire area. As she counts doorways she comes to a halt at the open portal and peeks inside.
The room was very obviously an art studio. Blank canvas` were propped against the walls of the room, one lay on the floor beside the easel that sat at an odd angle to the door. Gabby wrinkles her nose at the strong smell of turpentine as she studies the easel more closely. A light colored cloth had been thrown haphazardly over a work in progress. She battles with herself and takes a small timid step into the studio.
The linen covering hangs half-on and half-off the painting allowing a tantalizing glimpse of a softly rounded shoulder hidden amongst a cascade of dark hair. Her hand rises shakily, just a quick peek she assures herself as the very tips of her wrinkled fingers skim the thin, smooth old top sheet. Her heart thuds against the clothes and the dagger held closely to her chest in her left arm as she gingerly begins to lift the covering. No sound but the soft sprinkling of the summer rain meeting the many panes can she hear.
A horridly loud explosion of light and sounds jerks her rudely from her snooping. Downstairs she runs, dropping the clothes to the floor of the studio as she thunders loudly down the stairs, her dagger firm and sure in her hand again. Its the steady growl that sets the hair of her neck on end as she halts midway down. For her Professor stands at the bottom of the steps facing down the golden sword Joshua has leveled at his chest, his snarls low and deep as if he were defending a kill, or a mate.
Feral Female - November 15, 2008 10:41 AM (GMT)
Divinity-Issue # 8
Gabrielle catches a rapid glance from her history Professor making her skin tighten over her arms even more than the resonant rumble coming from somewhere deep within the were-male. For the eyes that quickly ascertained her whereabouts were not the arctic blue ones she had admittedly found bouncing about in her dreams, they were the mark of what lie just under the surface. The scarlet red gaze with the thin band of gold fell over her before jerking back to the Vanguard.
“Do you take the Lord God as your savior Dominick Raphael Kane?” Joshua queries calmly letting the edge of his weapon graze the quivering pectoral above the lupines heart.
“What are you doing?!” Gabby blurts out suddenly wresting the angels attention, but not his burning emerald eyes, from the huge man glowering at him from under damp gold and russet hair.
“I am offering this demon salvation before I dispatch him.”
“No!” she shouts wondering if he could even hear her over the bass growl that lingers in each corner of the home, in her chest, in her soul. That one word gets her the merest of flickers from Joshua.
“Speaking in defense of a lupine who has taken you into his den..”
“This-is-my-home-Vanguard!” Dominick snarls deeply, each and every muscle tightened in preparation for the killing blow. So when she moves past him, her cold arm brushing his thick smoldering one as she plants herself before him, even with his mind riddled with the call as it was he finds surprise at her defiance. No more so than the servant of the church judging by the quick arch of both snow-toned brows.
“Gabrielle, the beast has you in his, home, his intent obvious.”
“No. He saved me. Lower the damned, crap! Darn sword please and just hear me out okay?” her pleading eyes and the forthright lift of Gideon's chin brings his perusal from her back to the still panting werewolf, then back to her yet again.”Please Joshua I speak the truth.”
“`Tis easy enough to know if you do not Gabrielle”he informs her but the blade of the weapon lowers from Dominick's heaving chest.
“Why would I lie about a werewolf? He saved me Joshua, from this freakish clan of vampires. Did you know Mrs. Crowlings was a vampire?! Did you know her and her blood-sucking Brady Bunch attacked me tonight and were going to rip me apart because they knew I was the new 'assassin' as they put it!”
“A name aptly applied to others in my home” Dominick rumbles behind her.
“Do not push me Kane. You still draw breath due to the intervention of a Van Helsing in your defense” Joshua pins the girthy male behind Gabby with a look as rigid as his spine. When the wolf falls silent the Vanguard returns his attention to his charge.”You are mistaken Gabrielle. The demon races cannot know of your lineage. If they did obtain the knowledge the fault must lie with you.”
She whips her knotted mane from her now flushed face as a red oak log pops in the hearth behind them, throwing the powerful form of the angel into wavering shadows.
“Me?!? she sputters up at him as he now moves a step back from the woman and the werewolf. His movements are smooth, unhurried, precise Dominick notices with his heart thundering in his furred chest. How close had he come to death this evening he wonders? “Me!? I don't think I went around town with a bullhorn announcing ' Hey Divinity! Remember me? Little Gabby Devon? Well now I'm Gabrielle Van Helsing! I'll be running a special tonight! One free staking with every two vampires killed!”
“Sarcasm does little to aid the situation” Joshua comments moving to the hearth, his hand holding tightly to the handle of his broadsword.”There is no other explanation. For only you and the Vanguard know your lineage.”
“Perhaps one of your 'Brothers in Arms' told them?” Dominick tosses out as he places a hand to Gabby's shoulder. The current even now, even staring at his demise doesn't lessen the jolt a mere touch of her goose-fleshed skin sends to his core. The sword comes to shoulder level across the room.
“Speak not to me of sins wolf and take care what heresy you bandy about in my presence!”
Gabby draws a ragged breath, her left shoulder warm under the large hand resting there. She shudders as she studies the angel before the fire, and shes very much afraid the shiver wasn't from her damp clothes but she's going to say it was because wet underwear was a whole heck of a lot easier to admit too.
“Offer me a more logical explanation then Vanguard!” Dominick inquires cuttingly keenly aware of the blood coursing through her veins.
“Joshua” Gabby pleads leaving the heat of Kane's touch as she crosses the living room to lay her daggers beside a thick book on the coffee table,”Can we all drop our weapons and just talk this out. I'm sure no-one thinks a member of the Vanguard would let that kind of information slip, right Professor?” she whips him a look quickly.
“I do not need you to speak for me Miss Van Helsing!” Dominick counters sharply.”I merely put forth a question to which I have yet to receive an answer.”
“I would bid you caution Kane. Do not think our leniency for you and your 'family' shall carry you overly far” Joshua warns sternly as he just now slips the sword back into its fine scabbard.
“This isn't class Professor okay?” Gabby draws a deep breath as she moves closer to the fire. Her minds working rapidly as she holds her cold hands out trying to replace some of her body heat. Sounds of breathing and of a soft steady rainfall fill the home until she turns around to face the two men. Both still locked into the same places they had been. At least her teacher had dropped that snippy educator tone and merely stood with his thick arms folded over his chest glaring.
“Josh, lets just think...”
“Joshua” he corrects smartly, his arms also crossed over his off-white tunic.
“Sorry, Joshua” she smiles weakly at him. His expression never changes. Oy she thinks.”They knew somehow. Now since only you, the Vanguard and myself know about my being Gideon's daugh...”
“Kane knows” the Vanguard offers up.”Perhaps others do as well.”
“How do you know Professor? I asked you earlier and you told me we`d talk later. Well” Gabby fixes the man a firm look,”Looks like its later now.”
“I overheard the initial discussion you and the Vanguard had the night you ran me over on Route One” Dominick admits since he knew it would only require one touch from the angelic warrior to find the truth in his mind. And he had no wish to have the harbinger of death reading his innermost thoughts, for if he touched upon the inferno that was Gabrielle....
“I didn't run you over” the young woman corrects,”I rolled you.” She finds his mocking blue eyes a tad much.
“A trifling point Gabrielle.”
“To you, but I want the facts presented properly. So you hung around after I rolled you?”
“They were on the prowl also.”
“So you stayed in my presence to protect Gabrielle?”Joshua inquires with a minute trace of skepticism in his placid tone.
“Yes. You find that so very hard to comprehend? I am not a monster” Dominick announces gruffly.
“No one said you were, lately” Gabby interjects at the lurch in ire filling the room again. “Did you tell anyone Professor Kane?”
“No” he replies firmly finally moving from the bottom of the stairs to pad about the room in a circular pattern.”Why would I?”
“Why would you not?” Joshua asks.”I have found very little humanitarianism in your kind Kane. The hatred for the Van Helsing`s is one that encompasses each and every member of the demon races. Her father dying at the hands of the one who calls himself Supreme Alpha. Perhaps you work even now under Cristofer Eliade`s commands.”
“I will disregard that last taunt Vanguard!” the were-male snarls catching the look her ancient eyes now give him. Suspicion now enters into her gaze and he curses the angel for putting it back there.”I have lived by my own dictates for over two hundred years and you are well aware how the Eliade pack feels about my choices.”
Gabby looks from the huge towering man back to her mentor.”I believe him”she manages to say roughly letting his sudden stillness tug her from Joshua. The emotion she finds when she looks upon him makes her knees tremble, and her blood rush to her head. Funny, but now the 'gift' was silent she notices.”If he were going to kill me, he would have done it when the vampires attacked. Or he would have just let Tomato-Boy have me.”
“Tomato boy?” the Vanguard inquires with clear loss. Gabby smirks to think she had actually gotten some reaction from the stone faced man.
“Long story” she walks over to sit on the very edge of Kane's sofa, the rush of adrenalin must be wearing off for now all the pain and aches were resurfacing. She lifts her eyes to Joshua as Kane makes another circle, keeping a goodly distance from the angel studying the leaping fire intently.”So where does that leave us?” she asks quietly.
“It leaves you in a most dangerous position Miss Van Helsing” Dominick comments from behind her.
“On that we will agree Kane” Joshua responds.”Gather your things Gabrielle, I shall take you home.”
Dominick whips his golden head about as Gabby sighs and rises in pained, slow movements.”Do you think thats wise?”
“What would you have me do with her?”Joshua queries of Kane.
“Leave her here” he blurts out ignoring the voices in his head howling at him about how foolish that suggestion was.
“Out of the question” the Vanguard tells Kane succinctly.
“She'll be safe here. I can protect her. Lucien and Porsche, the pack will protect her. If you return her to her home you know They will find her and kill not only her but her mother as well!” Dominick argues.
“Hello?” Gabby attempts to break in.
“Your pack-mates will kill her. Yonescu`s hatred of her father is well known. She will return to her home.”
“They will do as I command. I am the Alpha here, they will heed my word.”
“Hello?” she speaks louder this time.
“Your word? I find not much to sway me in the word of a werewolf Kane. She goes home and I will safeguard her myself” Joshua dictates.
“I'm sorry but I have heard those promises before Joshua and to another of her lineage!” Dominick snarls back as the rain tickles the panes.”Was it not you who promised to be at Gideon's side the night of the battle with the Eliade`s? And yet, as I recall you were not there. You were in 'counsel' with the other Vanguard trying to decide if you should intervene! And now you stand there and promise me the girl will be safeguarded by you!? Pardon me for my skepticism but your vows ring hollow!”
“THAT`S ENOUGH!! I am standing right here and I will make my own decisions thank you both so very much!” Gabrielle shouts over the tension and the two men. Both male heads turn in her direction as she jerks her tousled head higher still. Gabby swears she hears Joshua mumble something under his breath about 'women should be seen and not heard' and that raises her chin even higher. Then with one last look at the burning azure eyes of the werewolf she tells them both her decision.
“Mommy? Don't cry Mommy” she pleads patting her mothers stone-cold hand.
“Listen to me Amanda” Lydia Crowlings hisses as they finally get back into the small house they called home.” I need you to do Mommy a big favor okay?”
Amanda's pretty face pulls deeper into its frown as her mother falls to the kitchen chair grasping her thigh. She could smell the tainted flesh coming off her Mommy, and she didn't like it. She hated that mean lady who had hurt her Mommy!
“Amanda, are you listening to me?”
“Yes Mommy. Mommy, your not gonna die like Daddy did are you?” the cherub sniffles pulling her small dirty hand over her coal black eyes.
“No” Lydia groans, the wound from the whelping Van Helsing was deep and burned like the finger of God had rested on her leg. She knew she would never be the same. Any wounding from the Templar daggers caused permanent damage, or death if the blade struck true and pierced the heart. She swallows her misery over her son for the moment as her blood leaks through her fingers, sticky and hissing with the poison of holy blessings.”Mommy's not going to die, but I can't run now. Baby, you need to go North for me. You remember how to get to Aunt Laurens right?”
The silvery-blond head bobs up and down slowly.
“Run to Aunt Lauren, tell her whats happening here, about the Van Helsing in our midsts. Tell her about Thomas. Tell her I need her and her coven to come South and help me eradicate the bitch who killed my boy. Can you do that precious? For Mommy? Can you?” Lydia asks patting the child's pale cold cheek. Amanda nods meeting her mothers ebony gaze with her own.
“When Auntie and I come back, are we gonna kill the meaner lady?”
“Yes baby” Lydia's ashen face contorts with unholy agony,”But first dumpling she's going to pay for your brother and your Father.”
“Good” Amanda smiles now, even though her eyes are dewy with child-like tears, she smiles sweetly only the slim fangs flashing ruining the visage. Then shes gone.
Feral Female - November 22, 2008 10:33 AM (GMT)
Divinity- Issue #9
Gabrielle falls backwards from the heavenly embrace in her kitchen. Her head spinning as Joshua's form seems to undulate in the light cast by the lone night-light beside the sink.
“Your decision was a wise one Gabrielle” he tells her keeping himself rigid beside the old Amana refrigerator. She bobs her head slowly as her bottom lands in one of two high backed wooden chairs tucked neatly under the round table. Her head comes down to rest on her arms for a moment. She can't even hear the angel breathing in the stillness of her home, but as her nausea begins to settle the image of Professor Kane's worried scowl at her announcement resurfaces. This was the right decision she knows. But even so, his eyes.....
“I would caution you to speak not of this to anyone.”
“So what do I tell my mother?” she lifts her dark eyes to look at him.
“Tell her nothing that does not concern her. I shall summon one of my brothers to keep a vigil over her until....”
The kitchen light flares on over Gabby's head. She and the Vanguard both stop dead in their conversations as Sarah stands in the doorway, her wispy blond hair rumpled and frayed about her still pretty face. Gabrielle's heart falls to her feet when Joshua merely looks down on her mother with a cold appraisal.
“Tell me she's not the next” Sarah whispers holding her soft blue robe closed at her throat.
“I am under no obligation to explain the workings of the Church to one such as you Sarah Devon” Joshua states with a tone of such loathing and disrespect Gabby is instantly on her feet, slamming her chair back into the stove door.
“Don't you talk to my mother like that!” she snarls at the imposing Vanguard.
“Its alright Gabrielle” Sarah says in her gentle light way.”I'm used to their condemnations.”
“You what?!” Gabby sputters reaching up to tuck some dirty strands behind her right ear because her hearing must be affected. Damn vampire bag-boy injured her ear-drum or something `cause she swore she....
“It's alright Gabrielle” her mothers eyes smile at her from behind her blue-rimmed glasses.”The Vanguard has little time for Wiccans.”
Theres little that compares to the feel of the hunt. Except this. The kill. As his jaws tighten on the neck of the moose cow his mind is thankfully blank at the moment, gone are the fleeting glances as she gathered her things. Erased is the simmering need and desire he drank in as he held her all too briefly in his arms. Expunged is the knowledge that drove him into this despised state when he had watched her step into the arms of the Vanguard.
Gabrielle Van Helsing was the one, his one. His mate for life. It was wrong, forbidden, illogical and dangerous. Yet he could no more deny the call of her than he could push back the tide. Desperation mixed with the knowledge that the woman he had sought for centuries was unattainable had snapped his usually steeled reserve. This was the only safe alternative to eradicate the pain and he reveled in it.
The muffled bleat of the cow fires the drive and he pins the kicking ruminant to the soaking wet forest floor and ends her life. With one mighty shake of his head he rends her neck open, the sounds, smells and taste of prey rich around the killing grounds. His breath huffs over her brown fur in heated puffs as he stands atop her, his golden muzzle now crimson.
The touch deep in his mind of the two others comes upon him now strong, as is their scent. So lost was he in the blood flowing over his lolling tongue that he hadn't noticed Lucien and Porsche until they broke over the mountain top to peer at him with eyes glowing red themselves. The fresh aroma of meat and blood pushing them quicker in their feral forms than possible if they were in human shape.
Dominick drops the dead moose and lowers his head, flattening his large golden ears to his immense skull. The other two exchange odd confused glances, for they always shared a kill. It kept them all strong Dominick would preach to them, kept them true to their ideals and morals. But this reaction, this true lupine Alpha dominance made them wary of the russet and gold he-wolf.
Porsche comes forward low on her belly, tail tucked tightly as Lucien pads the perimeter on his odd limping gait. Even though his eyes are sightless his nose and ears tell him all he need know. The she-wolf is now on her back as the Alpha snarls and snaps at her, his teeth barely missing the ebony fur on her vulnerable underside. She yips and calls gently while Dominick rumbles on not moving from his meal.
Lucien has not seen the young man like this for centuries. What has come over him of a sudden he wonders whining his feelings into the vocalizations that reverberate through the deep woods of Quebec. Porsche had followed his trail deep into the Appalachian mountains, her mind touching his over two hours ago. He knew he could not out run the lithe she-wolf so he had stopped beside the cooling waters of the Saint Lawrence river and had drank his fill.
Her feelings had began to wash over him as he lay with his head resting on his paws waiting. She always soothed them, the two more aggressive males in this small pack. Tonight was no exception as her glimmering coat of rich black bounded about him. At least he could remember the way she looked he had thought as she lapped the tangy, earthy water along the mighty riverbank beside him.
The high-pitched yelp of the she-wolf breaks his reverie then and he charges in to nip at Dominick's flank. Nothing deep just a reminder of who and what he was, if the damned pup even knew anymore!
Lucien drops as snapping fangs spin in his direction. He knew going into this man in his current state of mind would be suicide, for the emanations of their shared bonds were dark, angry and very past the edge of common reasoning. So damned unlike Dominick!
Its then that Lucien picks up the smell of her change, the strong scent of Porsche's womanly body now enters his nostrils as he raises his lip in a warning to their leader.
“Dominick!” the dark-skinned beauty yells standing under the moving limbs of pine and ash, unashamed of her nudity.”Fremare smettila!”
Lucien hears her command of 'Stop that!' but has little hope it will sink in past the mind-less animal haze thick in his brothers mind.
She stands not a foot away from the snarling, half-mad werewolf but her thoughts are calm, placid.
“Calmati fratello maggiore”she calls to him as he salivates over the warm kill under his wide safflower paws.” Calm yourself big brother”she whispers to him in English since shes not sure his rabid mind can decipher the language he spoke so fluently when he was himself. His crimson eyes move over her as his huge sides heave in and out. “Easy now Dominick” Porsche speaks soothingly motioning Lucien back with the merest nod of her head. The older wolf falls back a few feet still on his guard should the calming thoughts coming from Dominick shift suddenly. If he were to kill Porsche in his much-hated lupine form the man would never forgive himself Lucien knows.
She falls before the frothing beast and holds out her hands, both wrists up as she coos words that mean little to anyone. But they calm him some, enough for him to touch his ice cold black nose to her left wrist.
“Yes fratello”she smiles tentatively reaching out to stroke him under his erect ear then letting her fingers move over the incredibly huge mass of muscles in his fur covered neck.”See, all is well. You come back to us now, then we'll all have some of this feast you get for us no?”
She pets him gently, talking all the while. When his mind is soothed some his wide head drops to her bare shoulder.
“Dominick”she whispers into one pointed ear,” We know fratello, we all know how the pain is. Shhhhhh, shhhhhhh.”
She feels the mighty shudder that courses under the soft thick fur before the canine tugs free. His ice blue gaze meets hers then hes gone, running yet again to work out what it is that haunts him so. Lucien comes to his four feet with a grunt ready to track Dominick but the resigned call from Porsche stalls him.
“Let him go Lucien”she says as his coat brushes against her bare leg.” His soul is beset by demons. Let him exorcise them in private as he would wish. Si?”
A blink of space and the she-wolf then lopes homeward beside Lucien, their paws heavy as the turbulent aura of their Alpha still hums in their minds.
An hour before the summer sun is due to peek at the small hamlet of Divinity Lydia Crowlings staggers from her bathroom in her bra and panties. Her thigh is wrapped from hip to knee in thick white gauze, but even now the off-colored pus seeps through. The wound was already festering she knew, a light sheen of perspiration glimmering under her sandy-blond bangs as she leans into the wall of the L shaped hall to catch her breath. Her thigh felt as if a red-hot poker had been laid to her pearly skin, the muscle already showing signs of atrophy when she had dumped a bottle of peroxide into the weeping gash. The assassin would pay for marring her she vows inwardly, her ebony eyes fixed on her bedroom at the end of the corridor. Oh would the murderous bitch pay for..
”Hahhhhh!” she hisses as shes lifted from her bare feet and driven into the wall. The plasterboard behind the egg-shell white paint collapses with her weight as she struggles digging her nails into the fully gauntleted forearm of her attacker. When her gaze lights on the man as his fingers tighten she ceases her struggling.
“You failed in your mission Lydia.”
“<Gag!> She had...help....dog!!”
“She is naught but a girl-child. Are you such a useless race that three of you could not finish off one human female?”
<Gasp> Daggers” Lydia chokes out, prying at his ungodly strong fingers as they begin to crush her windpipe.”Killed....my..<Wheeze>..boy!”
“Do you think you are worthy of a chance of redemption?” his slate colored eyes burn into hers and she drops her terrified gaze down, down to the inscriptions running across the ethereal blue upper thorax armor plating.
“Yes!” falls out of her mouth past the fangs that have slipped down in her fight for life. Her bare heels seek purchase on the smooth wall behind her
“One last chance demon”he informs her curtly, then releases her. She slumps to the floor at his feet on her knees, then reverently bends her head down to touch his boots with her brow.”Save your genuflection for the Lord” his deep timbre resonates through her as she scuttles back as his command. She dares not lift her swimming head so she nods rapidly behind the sweat rich fall of her hair. The flash of immaculate light wrenches a groan from the vampire as she turns her face to the indented wall to curse each and every one of them to Hell for eternity.
The Devon kitchen now holds only two, mother and daughter. Each one silent as Sarah kneels before Gabrielle rubbing a thick dark green ointment over the young womans ragged knees.
“Mom?” Gabby finally asks and Sarah's calm blue eyes lift from her ministrations to her daughter.”Are you really a witch?”
The gurgling sound of the Mr. Coffee on the counter swirls with the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee while Sarah stands holding the canning jar of healing herbs. The sun would rise in forty minutes.
“Yes Gabrielle” her mother replies.”Are you worried a house may fall on us?”
“A little” Gabby lets the first small scrap of humor enter her voice since Sarah's rather startling revelation. Gabby sits back in her usual chair listening to her mothers chuckle as she now washes her hands in the stained twin sink. When Sarah comes back with twin mugs from the Divinity public library's fund-raising drive full of hot coffee Gabby thanks her on a whisper.”So are you a good witch or a bad witch?”
“<Sigh> I had hoped to never have to have this conversation with you Gabrielle” Sarah says as she settles across from Gabby and readjusts her glasses.”I had hoped the Church would forget about you. Your father had been so worried.”
Gabby moves tenderly at first, then as the warming herbs begin to soothe she finds her knees bend easily as she tucks her left foot under her right leg.
“Mom, this whole thing, the Trinity and the angels and the vampires...”
“Oh my!” Sarah smiles over her coffee at her little girl. Well, not so little anymore she has to admit.
“Yeah oh my!” Gabby snorts as she stirs some sweetener into her coffee.”Why didn't you tell me about, well, everything?”
“What would you have wanted me to say Gabrielle?” Sarah asks gently.”This world you're now aware of, the 'gift' that you have inherited, would you have believed me if I had brooked the subject before the Vanguard appeared to you?”
“No” Gabby states honestly. “I would have thought you more loopy than I already do. Did!”
Sarah smiles at her child. She was Gideon's daughter through and through she concedes yet again. Taking a small sip she finds the dark gaze of her daughter steady on her, beseeching her.
“Did you read the journal?”
“Some. Not much. Most was in German, and I haven't had time to get back to it. Its been kinda, uhm, hectic over the past few days.”
“I can imagine. Well, what do you want to know first?” Sarah inquires leaning back, white mug held in both hands.
“Heh, everything? But maybe just for starters how you met Dad. Was he handsome? Oh-My-God!” Gabby's rich brown eyes grow wide.” You, him, he was a Van Helsing!” she stammers about mentally.”He made a baby with a witch! Oh-My-God.”
At that Sarah breaks into a warm feminine giggle of sorts.”He did yes. Oh your friend Joshua was NOT impressed at all! He was even less so when your father and I ran off to Luxembourg to wed after I discovered you were on the way.”
“GET OUT!” Gabby squeaks, her mug almost falling from her grip. What the heck kind of freaky-deaky things were her parents into!? A witch marrying her sworn enemy? A Van Helsing going against the dictates of the Church!? A flash of stunning blue eyes then slams into her and she literally warms deep in her abdomen. Kane. Ho boy was her belly warm. It was the Maxwell House! Yup, the coffee was warming her insides.
“It was very scandalous” Sarah begins her tale and Gabby rips her thoughts from her studly fur-coated history teacher back to her Mom and her history.”Gideon and I first met when I was abroad in Europe, that much of the tale was always true. I was just a novice Wiccan then, and I was there at the behest of your grandmother. She had wanted me to study under Hezzala Brookden who had been her guide when she...”
“Whoa!” Gabby holds up both hands then decides to bend to sip her coffee as it sits on the green plastic tablecloth for fear of scalding herself when something like that last whopper of truth fell on her.”Grandma Devon was a witch too? Hmm, guess Grandpa Devon was right when he called her that.”
“Oh Daddy used that as a term of endearment. Francis Devon was a very powerful warlock in his own right.”
“Oh-kay. So Grandma and Grandpa Devon were BOTH witches? Warlocks? Whats the proper terminology? I already got scolded once tonight for calling a werewolf something that wasn't P.C.!”
“A werewolf? Be careful around them Gabrielle, they're deadly rancid beasts!” Sarah spits out with vehemence.
“Not all of them” Gabrielle utters oh-so-softly as she bends to sip her coffee.
“Well we generally prefer the term Wiccan since such ghastly connotations are now linked with the word witch. But I'm fine with being called just Mom” her serene face creeps into a smile over her mug.” I first met your father one night in England when I was out on an errand for Hezzala” Gabby watches the play of warmth spread over her mothers features as she places both battered elbows to the table. This was going to be one hell of a story, she just knew it!
Feral Female - November 29, 2008 01:35 PM (GMT)
Divinity-Issue # 10
Sarah and Gideon
19 years ago
As her feet carry her across Whitechapel Road she mutters a small curse at the seemingly never-ending rain that plagued this town. She sorely wanted to tell Hezzala that if they waited until morning she would gladly had gone out to gather the herbs the old Wiccan needed for her Alban Heflin offerings. But no, of course not! The summer solstice was the following night and all must be made according to the dictates. So here she was, her feet already damp and her mood as dark and thick as the mists that shrouded the busy street. Most of the vendors would be closed by this time here in the East end of London Sarah knew. And that made her even more surly! For she'd have to go even further in this nasty weather to seek out one lone sprig of Lady's Mantle.
As she passes the tube exit with her head down and her mind elsewhere the sound of wind moving past her brings her blue eyes up from the puddles. She feels the rush of air move by her once, then yet again. A course shudder starts at her neck and races down her spine. Quickly she whispers to The One to watch over her. There were dark creatures moving tonight and Sarah tugs her wrap tighter about herself then screams as a form barrels out of the tubes gaping steps and collides with her on the walk. His oath is colorful as he stops to look down at her sitting in a puddle on Whitechapel Road.
“My apologies” he mutters as she stares blankly at the stranger, her skirt now soaking through to her bottom.
“Honestly!” she sputters.”How rude!”
“I did apologize. Perhaps you should pay more attention to your surroundings and less to your feet?”he asks and she misses the rapid glimmer of silver under the weak streetlights. Then its gone in the swirl of his knee-length coat as she glares up at him.
“Perhaps you should walk instead of running!”
“How would I catch what I'm after if I did that?” he asks of her as he looks both up and down the nearly deserted street. He sighs then, and extends her a large hand. She scowls at the offering as she lifts her face into the rain to find his interest on her now. She feels the thud of her heart in her ears as her gaze meets his. Did he just gasp she wonders as she places her wet hand into his. Perhaps the gasp was hers? He tugs her to her feet with ease and she can't seem to leave the rugged plateaus of his face. His hair hung loose to his shoulders,dark she could tell under the fog hugged lamp above them.
“Did your mother not warn you of wandering alone Red Riding Hood? The big bad wolf may find you” he says keeping her small hand in his. She nods absently, enraptured with eyes brooding and deep under dark lashes that no man should possess.
“Are you the wolf or the hunter?”
A smile most glib falls to him then, softening the harsh look he had worn a moment ago.
“That depends on your point of view my little lamb.” And still her fingers are wound in his.”Do you have a name or shall I forever call you lamb?”
“Sarah”he repeats dropping his damp head to haze his lips over her quivering knuckles.”Which would you prefer I be Sarah? Hunter or hunted?”
“Who ARE you?” she inquires floundering in the fire that brews in his gaze.
“I'm the man of your destiny.”
And he had been it seemed to the young woman. He had walked her home that night her hand not once leaving his. When they had climbed the steps to huddle in the cramped vestibule outside Hezzala`s small row-home she had felt as if her mind had been wiped clean of everything except this man. Whatever had come before was gone in a swipe of his rough hand. Nervously she had then invited him to the solstice celebration. The silence replacing his witty banter makes her leave her study of the opening of his white collar under the wet leather coat. She feels a flare of worry at the perusal his compelling eyes are making of her now.
“You're a witch?” comes from him gruffly as she leans against the thick door, her clothes sticking to her back.
“Wiccan” she corrects. “I shouldn't have told you that! I barely know you and, and yet...”
“Yet you touch upon my soul as if we have been lovers for eternity?”
“Yes” Sarah whispers.
“If I were to taste of you here Sarah of the Wiccans would you cast a spell to bind me tighter to you?” Gideon inquires capturing her delicate face in his palm and lightly tracing his calloused thumb over her quivering bottom lip.”Or one to repel me?”
“Is a spell necessary Gideon?”
He snickers softly as her teeth skim over his finger on her lip.
“No for I fear your witches wiles have already besotted me”he tells her leaning in to replace his finger with his lips. When she lets out a soft sigh his mouth moves over hers with more ardor, his tongue teasing her lips until she allows him entry. The rain patters on the sidewalk as her hand tightens in his.
“I will need to think on your invitation Sarah. Not because I don't want to be with you but there are other, aspects, I need to ponder.”
“Okay” is all she can say with his taste still on her lips. Another deep drink of her then he pulls back , dropping one last kiss to the palm of her hand. Something races over his face then as he stares at her, then hes gone. Slipping from the stoop into the fog and mists leaving her shaken and heated with her back against the door.
The summer solstice celebration had long ended and yet she had lingered behind here on the rolling hills. Sarah paced through the dew rich grass, her feet bare as she waited in vain for him to appear. Her mind was awash in so many different emotions she could barely remember the incantations she was bid to make to the Earth this evening. Even now, alone here in this glen she finds herself addled some as she makes her way to the tree-line. The day had crested warm and bright, the winds blowing the usual gray clouds off to sea. She had dressed for him she knew, the soft gauzy dress of pale pink setting off her complexion. But he hadn't come. All through the celebration she had cast about the rather large numbers of fellow pagans but his tall head was not among them.
Maybe she should have gone home with Hezzala when the white-haired woman had wished her to. Now she'd have to find a way home. The tube more than likely and she hated riding it! A warm wafting wind lifts her hair and her thin skirt as she begins the long walk on the well-worn path back to the road.
“Surely you cannot be a Wiccan Sarah for you move through this copse like one of the angels come to Earth.”
She stops dead on the flattened grass as Gideon steps from the forest.
His head moves in a yes as he closes the distance between them in two long strides.
“I had no choice witchling.”
“You missed the offerings” she tells him as he now takes her hand and raises it to his mouth.”I should be really mad at you!”
“But you're not are you Sarah?” and his smirk can't be missed. Lord but he was smug she thinks then shudders as his lips capture her index finger.
“No. But I should be!” his laugh is rich and deep as he winds her fingers with his to lead her out of the woods and back to the meadow. They walk in half-grown wild flowers until she tugs him to the small dirt spot with a hand-gouged upright pentacle in its center. His grip on her small hand tightens as she looks over her shoulder at his faltering step.
“The mark of the witch” Gideon mutters.
“Only in the sense of our use of it. There are no demonic ties to it as we use it Gideon”she explains.
“In the burning times this came to be known as the Witches Foot” he replies keeping his dark eyes on the symbol at his booted feet.
“Yes, the Church has taken its meaning and twisted it to serve their own uses. But the five points can also be seen as the five wounds of Christ. Some have called our symbol the Star of Bethlehem” she speaks as she moves freely about the pentagram her hair lit with moonbeams.”And also Sir Gawain the nephew of King Arthur adopted our pentacle as his personal symbol, even placing it on his shield. He believed the five points symbolized...”
“The five knightly virtues-generosity, courtesy, chastity, chivalry and piety” Gideon finishes for her.
“Yes! So you do know something about paganism. Does it bother you that I'm a Wiccan?”
“God knows it should”his terse reply comes as she moves before him, her arms wide to the sky above.”But I find the need to have you more overpowering than anything else. I ponder if I shall be cast to Hell, my soul doomed to burn for all eternity.”
“Why would you burn? Is there something wrong with worshiping as we see fit? Why must the Church's God be the only God? Is there a God at all? Tonight is a grand night Gideon!” she smiles from behind the lush fall of her wild hair.”Tonight we believe was the night of the grand sexual union of the Goddess and the God. The male and female coming together under the honey moon. What harm can come of that?”
She faces him now with her last steps bringing her in front of him.”Do you feel the Earth calling to you Gideon?”
“All I feel is your spell about me witchling. God forgive me for what I'm thinking” he growls deeply as he reaches out to her and she falls easily into his embrace. Her fingers snake into his bound hair as his mouth finds hers, sweet and beguiling her taste maddens him. Sarah pulls his thick auburn hair free as his hands press on her back, forcing her against him, against his desire for her.
The two tumble to the ground then, his mouth on her neck as he traces the thin gold chain down, down until his teeth tug the pentagram of gold from her cleavage. Her eyes flutter open as his hand moves up a smooth span of bare thigh.
“Gideon”she sighs letting her hands fall to the cool blue shirt he wears.
“Have you used your magicks on me?”he asks as the moons light falls over her under him.
“No” she pants with her hair spread under her head in the grass.”Thats against our standards.”
“Then I have no-one to blame for this weakness but myself” he utters claiming her with a kiss once more.
The two lovers are soon lost in the ancient rhythms of the Earth and Moon. His powerful body moves over hers as their moist skin slips and slides, the occasional cooling breeze and the crickets the only sounds aside from their mewls and groans of passion. Her fingers clutch his bare back, his grip on her hips male and primal. The Cross thrice-blessed that hangs from his sweating neck is wound tightly with the five pointed pentagram of precious metal just as their bodies are wound in the grand joining of female and male.
“Come along Sarah!” his rough tone making her hurry down the stairs of Hezzala`s home. She quickly looks back over her shoulder as Gideons firm grasp keeps moving her forward.”You know we have to move quickly.”
“But, but I've never been to Luxembourg before!” she mutters as she attempts to keep up with his long powerful legs. Her bag clutched tightly in her shaking hand she trips along after him as they make their escape.
“I know witchling, but Notre Dame is where Father Alphonse is. He is the only one who'll marry us” he explains to her for the fiftieth time in so many weeks. Two months ago they had begun to met in secret. Two months for him to fall so deeply in love with this slip of a woman he now stood ready to go against all he had been raised to do. The cross on his lightly furred chest seems to burn as he tugs her behind him to the waiting taxi down the block.
“Will they come after us? After the baby?” she asks timidly. His dark head shakes yes and she swallows down the almost numbing fear. Witches knew all too well what the Church felt for them. How many innocent Wiccans had burned on the stakes for nothing more than being healing women? If they were caught before the sacred vows could be said....
“Get in” he barks, tucking her head down for her as she stumbles into the rear of the cab. He snaps to the driver then and they head to Heathrow with her crying softly into the warm leather of his coat.
“Sarah once we're married it will be fine” he tells her. Lies to her. He knew that this would be a scar on the name Van Helsing that could never be erased. But the woman was in his blood, his soul. She carried his child. He wonders if his prayers to God to help them secretly wed seemed a bit tactless. More than likely he admits but tosses one upwards anyway. Perhaps the Lord would keep his child safe.
“Gideon I have served as console to the Van Helsings for over sixty years and if your father were still alive..”
“He would do just as I have Father” Gideon moves through the huge catacombs under Notre Dame, the old priest scurrying to catch up with the man and his new bride. Alphonse nods his bald head for the boy was right. Blessed servants of the Church the Van Helsings may be, but they moved also to their own thoughts and ways. This he knew first hand for he had intervened on more than one occasion for this man's sire, and this man also if truth be told!
“Its not for me to ask why you needed to marry this young woman in such a hurry” he pokes a small bit as the girl turns to look up at her new husband.
“You didn't tell him?”
“No. The less that know the better”he tells her flatly as they climb from the dampness into the nave of the cathedral.
“Did you get her with child Gideon?” the old priest asks with much huffing and puffing.
“<Sigh> Father, Alphonse” the towering man stops mid step as his wife looks about nervously,”Is it not enough that I love her and wished to make sure she was bound to me?”
“No” the bald Jesuit announces crossing his arms over his robes.
“Father Alphonse” Sarah whispers oddly uncomfortable in this house of God.”I'm a Wiccan.”
“Holy Mary Mother of God!” he coughs and crosses himself three times rapidly.
“If you spit on the floor the act of contrition would be that much more dramatic” Gideon huffs as he begins to rush Sarah to the rear of the church.
“Do not seek to make light of your transgressions Gideon Van Helsing!!” Alphonse scuttles after the two young people as best he can.”You are a sworn and sanctified warrior of God! Your vow is to dispatch creatures such as this one!”
“Enough!” Van Helsing spins about, his hand to the hilt of the Templar daggers strapped to his lean sides in a blink.”This woman is now my wife. Another word spoken about her in that manner and I shall forget your duty to my family!”
Sarah gasps at the tone he uses with the old man.
“I overstep my bounds and for that I apologize to you Mrs. Van Helsing” Alphonse drops a head shining in the glow of a thousand lit candles.”But Gideon, to wed a witch? Do you love her that much my son?”
“More than you could ever know Father. Now we have to leave before the Vanguard arrive. If they know of the ceremony and the child they...”
“Aha!!” the priest wags a short finger up into the huge mans face.”I knew you had engaged in pre-marital relations! For shame! Have my lectures on abstinence gone unheeded?!”
“Apparently yes they have” Gideon quips taking Sarah's arm and driving her out into the dark night, Alphonse right on their heels muttering to himself.
“But where will you go Gideon?” the panting priest inquires.
“I'm taking her to our ancestral home in Clervaux until the baby comes. If the child is born without the mark of the Trinity then I will announce her to the world and Church as my wife, the child as well.”
“And if the babe carries the Van Helsing mark?”
“Then I shall send them to the States where they will live without my name. No Alphonse!” Gideon argues at the open drivers side door.”It will be the only way to ensure their safety. The winds carry the smell of war, rumors of the Eliade packs unrest. Couple that with certain elements within the Vanguard and my name would ensure the babe either a death sentence or being ripped from my wife and raised by the Church if I should fall. Neither are acceptable to me.”
Father Alphonse nods with a weary sound, the man spoke all the truth.”Go with God my son” he calls, blessing the black sedan as it speeds away.
Feral Female - December 6, 2008 01:01 PM (GMT)
Divinity- Issue #11
Joshua moves through the winding corridors with the pace of a man truly on a mission. His steps are hurried as he passes his brother knights of God, his greetings clipped and short for his mind was anxious. There was something afoot in Maine. Something that moved quickly and with the speed of deceit. Something that circled the outer edges of his mind not unlike the lycanthrope as it tightened its sights on the prey.
“My leige!” a young mans call from behind him and he forces himself to stop for he knew his squires voice well.
“Daniel” he replies as the youth leaves his chamber door and hurries up to him.
“My leige did you hear the news?” the ruddy faced youth asks as Joshua once more breaks into stride.” Brother Micheal has taken a bride.”
At that announcement the white-haired angel pauses.”I wish him well” is his proclamation as he moves on, his ivory tunic catching the dank air deep under the papal palace with a flair. Daniel frowns slightly, hoping his news would garner more of a response from the elder Vanguard.
“He wed a siren Master” Daniel adds smugly. Joshua's bearded face spins to look at the youth beside him as he stops dead.
“I beg your pardon?”
A nod and a small smile move over the boys features now.”Indeed!”
“Well the mans choice of bride is no concern of mine. Although seems odd for he has always been devout and resigned in his duty to God and Church.” Then Joshua returns to his sprint to the priests chambers.
“Well of course much more lies behind the vows than what appears on the, why are you moving in such haste m` lord?” Daniel asks trotting behind the man as they move through a narrow passageway.
“I seek counsel with the priests” he answers flatly, his hand placid on the hilt of his sword.
“You shall have to wait in line then m`lord. For Master Malachi has just entered the counsel chambers with them. My leige? What vexes you so?”
Gabrielle stands outside her first class of the day, her denim tote rubbing on her hip as she worries her bottom lip. A few quick greetings from the unknown classmates at the girl with soaking wet hair tugged up into a delicate chignon. Gabby had grummoxed heatedly but her shoulder pained her so much her mother had to do her hair for her after her shower. Sarah had smiled and patted her daughters soft cheek as she had even went as far as to pull a few tendrils loose to hang down alongside her face. Pah!
All Gabby wanted was this day to be over so she could go home to sleep and sleep some more. Then sleep some more still. A short squat girl moves past her and her 'gift' sears to life, raising her hackles so horribly she finds her fingers reaching for the daggers instinctively. They were, of course, in her bag now. She still had yet to work out how to carry them concealed in this day and age and not be arrested.
Guess it was easier to brandish seventeen inch daggers about while shouting 'Death to the demon races!' back in Abraham's time she supposes. Finally she drifts into class with her nerves on edge but the only thing here now that would do it was the mousy squatly girl thats three seats over. Gabby actually feels a sharp shot of regret when she sees the substitute teacher now closing Dominick's door. Whoa!! When did we move from Professor killer of babies to Dominick she scolds herself as she drops into her seat by his desk. Why wasn't he here?
As the reedy woman with too big glasses begins to drone on Gabby's thoughts wander as her hand scribbles absently. There was so much that needed sorting out she ponders, the fingers of her left hand tugging at the hole in the knee of her Levis. Her legs were a mess and covered with Wiccan Green Goop so she had forced the jeans on. Sarah had assisted in getting the loose peasant type green top over Gabby's wickedly lovely hair then had handed her the keys to the Prius and a short shopping list as she limped yawning out the front door.
Sarah had decided since the Goddess had gifted them with such a fine cool day she would walk to the library. Gabby finds her teeth chewing her lip again. She worried about her mother. Could a Wiccan cast a spell like Harry Potter? What if her mom ran into the fanged fruit-tart Queen and her little cherub of death? Gabby turns to find the squatly girl staring at her with cool green eyes. Was she a blood sucker? How many of them were there in Divinity? Where the hell was Kane!?
Did he get so mad over her choosing to return home to protect her mother that he ran off in some lupine fueled rage? No, thats just stupid Gabrielle she picks another strand from the frayed edge of the knee rend. Someone as proper and British as Professor Dominick Kane would never loose his cool. Dumb silly girl. So what would make a werewolf miss a day? She didn't think he had a cold. Kennel cough? Oh Gabby that was not very nice. Sorry Prof she thinks slowly, still scratching notes dully.
Pen moving of its own accord she wonders how well Kane knew her father. He had mentioned him in the show-down with Joshua. And for that matter where the hell, crap! Heck did her mentor go off to in such an all fired hurry this morning? Did heaven have a toll-free number? 'Hello you've reached the Vanguard hot-line. If you're calling about a vampire infestation please push one now. If you're calling about a werewolf that holds you so close you forget your name and makes your toes curl as his soft looking lips move closer to yours while you beg him to kiss you with all the power in your mind...'
Her pen stops its scratching. She had wanted him to kiss her. Her throat tightens at the vivid memory, of his head falling downward, the play of thunderous muscle under her ice cold fingers. She stares bug-eyed at the wall for a moment then her startled mahogany eyes drift to her notes. Somewhere, she sees in mortification, her last word about Neanderthal brain size had spiraled down into a sketch of a lupine. Half-wolf, half-man and the part that was man makes her face scald with fifteen shades of crimson. Her fist balls the erotic sketch into a small lined wad. Her brain size was apparently the same circumference as a chick pea she sighs as the squatly girl still watches.
The slam of the Prius` door is like a soothing lullaby to Gabby at the end of a long, long day. Although the nap she grabbed in Economics and then in Womens Lit had helped her fatigue some she still ached from head to toe and her senses were frayed like the ripped knee of her jeans. She was learning to block some of the warning bells out, but now she wondered if she should. Although an attack in such a public place as D.C.C. seemed scant. She lifts her head from the hot steering wheel and rolls the window down to help un-stick her tendrils. Stupid tendrils! Cranking the little jitney over she backs up as the Godsmack C.D. she had been listening to this morning at Mach 17 to keep her awake screams to life.
“Cripe!” she hisses quickly turning down the volume as cars behind her start beeping. She shifts into drive and speeds to the end of the parking lot, the stop sign giving her time to find the proper sound setting. As she waits for the usual heavy traffic coming from the college her fingers start tapping along.
'And now I look through my minds eye
To see where my past needs to rest
Its always disturbed by these voices
That echo inside of my head'
She loved this band! If they ever make a movie of my life since the night on Route 1 I want Godsmack to do the soundtrack she dictates internally. Ill call the movie 'Gabby Van Helsing-Slayer of Bag-Boys!' and for my lead love interest, Kanes rugged face slips in, warm belly begins. Damn, not Maxwell House to blame it......Her sharp eyes lock on the silver Audi as it moves past her puttering Prius. She gawks for a minute then looks over quickly at her rather rumpled tote on the passenger seat. In a move that shes sure Sarah would call Gideon-esque she flips the turn signal from left to right and pulls out in front of a dark red Mustang from the larger upper campus lot.
“Sorry!!!” she shouts back to the driver spitting out a tendril as she falls in behind the Audi.
'Its all these demons haunting me
Its all these little things trapped inside of me
Releasing me from all my sin'
The drive turns out to be further than she had first anticipated and her skills at playing 'Follow that car' left something to be desired. Gabby had sworn loud enough for her angel to hear when the Audi had raced through a yellow onto the Jacobs Mill road which led, oddly enough, to the abandoned mill of Hephretus Jacob. But she had managed to keep the sleek car in sight from behind a few others in the after-school rush. Now though she had again been left behind when the freight train that ran from Bangor down through her town caught her with flashing red lights. As she sat impatiently waiting she decided to just come right out and ask, no, demand to know where he had been today! And then she had a few other questions for her Professor that would get answered or he'd find a Templar dagger resting against his wide corded throat! Oh man I am so scary she snorts mockingly at herself.
Her meandering mind almost misses the Audi pulled alongside the overgrown pull-off to the mill. With a curse she backs up and parks in front of the shimmering auto then makes her way to the drivers side door. Empty. What the heck? She takes in the surrounding area with a hand over her eyes to shield her vision from the sun. There was nothing out here besides the mill and about ten thousand acres of Maine woodlands which is why good old Hephretus had set up shop here. The Allagash river ran past on the right as it cut back and forth downstate until it spilled into Eagle Lake. She and her mom had driven to the lake a few times when she had been younger. Pretty scenery she recalls as she chews on her thumbnail for a moment.
“Professor Kane?” she calls out watching the pigeons scatter from the half-rotted peak of the old sawmill. Well he must have gone in there! Why would he go in there? Her soft green boating sneakers are already moving when she stops with a small oath then runs back to the Prius for the daggers. Soon she has them strapped to her sides, the leather warm where it sits snug to her sides. Crossing the weedy yard Gabby tosses the ivy covered sign announcing the mill a fast glance then she comes to the bottom of a loading dock she assumes.
”Professor Kane! I know you're in there!” she shouts then flinches as a pair of gray and white mourning doves swoop down over her, their wings whistling as they flee. Okay, so now that she thinks on it, if he were near-by, why wasn't her Van Helsing sense tingling? Lifting herself up with her arms and moaning at the flare in her shoulder she stands and dusts her pants off. Now she should go in. Or if she had any common sense which apparently the Van Helsings did not, she would turn around and go home and to hell with him!
“Professor Kane?”she calls a touch more softly as she drops her right palm to her daggers hilt and steps into the sawyers domain. Lumber still sat as it had been piled, only now the pigeons and bats had covered it with droppings. The sunlight fell through the cracks and gashes in the old roof lighting the floor in odd patterns. Her soft soled shoes kick up years worth of dust and poo as she steps along cautiously. At least her spine wasn't spasming in warning she reasons blowing a tendril from her eyes.
”Professor Kane?” she calls on a shallow whisper as she steps into a murky length of building. A soft rustle from the upper reaches of the well arched roof, a quick glance up to see some small feathers drifting down in one of the random sunbeams.”You didn't scare me birds” she whispers as a small drop of sweat tickles down between her breasts.
An almost imperceptible flash of something from the corner of her left eye and Gabby's suddenly lifted from her feet as she struggles to free the dagger tight to her left side. Her back hits the wall of the mill as her hands are jerked away from her weapons with a speed she can not believe. His breath fans her damp face moving the tendrils just a mere whisper.
“You're quite dead Miss Van Helsing” Dominick breaths over her face as his left hand easily encompasses both her wrists above her startled head.”If I so choose.”
“I'm not scared of you!” she pants praying her heart returns to a normal rhythm soon. One lone coo from high above in the rafters as she lifts her proud chin to look at him. Piercing arctic blue eyes bore into hers.
“You should be Gabrielle. You should be terrified at what animalistic thoughts I'm having right now.”
“If you were going to kill me you would have already” she reminds him as her shoulder rebels at the angle he holds her arms at, but she'll be damned if she'll let him see her wince!”Or were you planning on biting me? Go ahead! Bite me!” she hisses at him, her breath cool from spearmint his nose picks up easily as her moist puffs linger on his mouth. He shudders then as she drops her head to the left baring her smooth neck to him, the steady tump-tump of her jugular making his body react in ways far more dangerous to her than the werewolf's saliva could ever be.
She was calling his bluff he knew this, and yet, yet as his lids drift closed and he places his face a whiskers width from her neck she whimpers softly. Fear or passion? Both course off her. As he draws in a lungful of her scent his head moves up the column of her neck. One move, one heady rush of his mate deep into his lungs. The call to bind her to him was making him salivate, causing his male body to tense and harden. He peeks at her from under his lashes, her teeth biting into her bottom lip, the tight way her eyes were closed. She was prepared for the strike. But not for the barest flutter of his lips to the pulse point under her left ear. So minute shes not sure it actually happened he sees when her eyes fly open to meld with his for a time spanning moment.
“You play with me as if I'm someones pet Chihuahua. Know that I am not Gabrielle and if you tempt me in that manner again I will...” he releases her then, the soft laving of her tongue over her dry lips almost breaking the quavering hold he still had on his desires. Gabby lets out a long, tense breath as he pads away from her, his intent on an escape into the woodlands.
“Dominick!” he hears her call with a shaken small voice as the merest sounds of love birds returning to the roost above them and time-softened leather come to his keen ears. He stops and curses himself the imbecile for doing so, but the harsh thud behind him of her daggers still in their sheaths compel him to turn and gaze at the deadly weapons. The cloud of dust moves up cotton-like then falls softly over the harness Gideon himself used to keep his blades at his side. Motes of fine sawdust, soil and bird dander dance in a lone sun-ray then settle on the bronze handles as her rapid breathing yanks him back to her.”Don't go” she swallows he can hear as one thin light of day falls across her chestnut hair piled atop her head.”Please?”
Feral Female - December 13, 2008 12:07 PM (GMT)
Divinity-Issue # 12
“So you only met my father that one time? When the Eliade pack rose up?” Gabby asks pushing aside a thin limb as she walks beside Dominick. He nods as he keeps his eyes on the gently moving Allagash river on his right. The dropping sun speckles through the trees as the two stroll on, neither one anxious to end the time together.
“Yes. Generally most of our kind tend to keep a good distance from the Van Helsings” he comments as he stops beside a large hole that swirls and eddies, dark shadows of brook trout lying lazily in the slow currents grabbing his attention.
“Except for you. And my mother” Gabby interjects walking up to the hole carved by thousands of years of Allagash water wearing away at the Earth. Here in the Maine woods the sounds and smells seemed to soothe him she noticed. She noticed a great deal over the past few hours if she were honest.
Like how his eyes would touch on her, then flight off quickly as if he couldn't not look at her but was scared of her knowing he did. She leans her tacky back against the smooth bark of a white birch as the man kneels beside the river, his fingers trailing gently into the sluggish stream.
“Yes well, I find myself at odds about that to be honest Gabrielle” Dominick responds casting a fast glance over at her small feet in those ugly green boating sneakers. Small gnats move in pulsating clouds over the trout sanctuary as he brings his mind back to her previous question.”Your father and I and Lucien met for only a few moments. He was much like you in looks and temperament.”
“And mouth. Don't forget the mouth!” Gabby tosses out the self-deprecating jab. He lifts ice cool eyes to her lips then despite his vow to keep his wants and needs under a tighter rein. Her show of trust back in the mill had sent his emotions in a thousand different directions at first. But the symbolism of her gesture could not be overlooked. She trusted him, at least in some small manner. He would have to live with just her friendship for now, perhaps forever.
“Your mouth would indeed be hard to overlook as it does tend to run on without waiting for your mind to catch up” he quips returning his sight to the trout still treading water under the cooling shade of thick boughs of soft maple.
“See you're supposed to say 'Oh nonsense Gabrielle! Thats poppycock!” she effects a ghastly British accent to match the austere look on her pretty face.
“I have never said poppycock” he mutters standing to let the blood flow back to his legs.
“Never? In your, what hundred years? I know werewolves live for a long time. How old are you?” she asks letting the whirring zip of a blue-winged dragon-fly pull her from her study of his hair, how it hung loose today and caressed his neck much as she would.....Whoa woman!! The mans not interested in anything like that so slip some ice down your peasant top and fast! She catches the long exhale from him as he stalks, yes she would say he stalked on legs thick and muscular and very...... More ice Geeves!
Dominick rests his back alongside hers, the medium sized tree swaying minutely with his girth.
“I was born in 1649.”
“You've held up really well!”she utters then mentally slaps herself as his arm brushes hers gently. His soft chuckle makes her stomach feel warm again, funny how he seems to do that to her she ponders.
“I thank you” he comments with a tone of lightness. She looks over her shoulder as surreptitiously as she can wondering if he knew just how much he affected her. “Its the saliva you know.”
“Wolf spit, the fountain of youth” comes tumbling out.
“Its not a path I would have chosen Gabrielle” he murmurs making her curse her rampant mouth. They had been so relaxed since she had extended that olive branch and now she had screwed it up!
“I didn't mean that the way it sounded” Gabby tells him still peeking through her dark lashes at him.”I know its a curse, well, at least Abraham described it as such in his journal. What I could decipher, he rambled a lot at times and Germans not my best language.”
“A curse” Dominick ponders that phrase picking up the smell of her fear of a sudden. She was mercurial in her emotions, a moment ago she had been calmed and serene, and now, now she emanated fear. Fear of what? Not him he hoped for he had thought them past that now. “To be damned, reviled, vilified by everyone. Persecuted and hunted by the Church for centuries, yes I should think that a curse describes it adequately.”
“I'm not reviled by you” she quickly interjects turning to pin him openly so he could see the truth in her face, in her eyes. When his golden head turns slightly to look at her he finds honesty lying bare in her soulful ancient eyes and his heart moves in a spiral in his chest.
“You should be Gabrielle. If you were wise you would even now drive those daggers into my heart and end my life before either of us make a fatal mistake in judgment.” Her eyes never leave his, not for a second. Then she smiles, the corners of her eyes wrinkling tugs him towards a slippery slope.
“Sorry” her hands come up display her open palms,”Left the daggers back at the mill!”
“Foolish move on your part Van Helsing. That moon is nigh to rising now and lest a beam fall upon me...”he moves so rapidly to pin her to the smooth birch bark she can do nothing but gasp yet again at his speed.
“Poppycock” she states nervously. “You said the moon thing was rubbish.”
“I may have lied” he informs her with his large hands splayed on either side of her chestnut hair.
“I'm not scared of you. Not anymore” he hears her say as one cricket begins to chirp far off in the woods. As he holds her in place without touching her the high song of another cricket to their right lends itself to the call of evening.
“If not fear then what do you feel for me?” The shift in her pheromones is astounding causing him to swallow in rapid gulps to quell the hunger that her sudden desire stokes in him. She wets her lips and the soft aroma of her breath rises to him.”Tell me Gabrielle Van Helsing what is it you feel for this wolf-man?”
She balls her hands into fists at her sides wondering if this is how her mother felt when Gideon first rode into her life. Did she stare into male eyes and forget who and what she was? Did her lips demand to be pressed to the enemies?
“I don't know” she whispers ignorant to the small splash of a trout rising to snap a mosquito from the waters surface.
“This is a dangerous precipice we hover on Gabrielle” Dominick utters letting her carry him off for this moment in time. Allowing her smell, sound, sight to flood him until he can find nothing else in these woods except her.”Bid me away Gabrielle, do so now or....”
“Or what Dominick?”she asks on a breath of womanly seduction she was not even aware she possessed. Tighter she clenches her small hands as his head drops and lowers. She can hear his grip on the tree, the rending of the bark from the birch. Her heart thunders inside her chest. Can he hear it she wonders. How can he not?? Yes, kiss me Dominick she begs silently as her lashes drop closed and her defiant chin rises just a fraction. Kiss me.
“How far away the stars seem, and how far is our first kiss, and ah, how old my heart” he whispers over her parted lips as he digs deadly powerful fingers deep into the meat of the birch. Then it hits her. Bells to rival the ones that peal every Sunday morning fire off in her foggy mind.
“Gabby the assassin -
Her head in the fog-
Shes this close to kissing a dog!”
Sing songs through the twilight colored woods as all about the birch whirlwinds of laughter and movement bring the were-males head up instantly and pull a shuddered cry of 'No!' from the young woman.
Dickens slips to the still warm porch flooring as the simultaneous clatter of a dropped pot resounds inside the home.
“Dominick!” Porsche mouths her eyes searching the dense forest embracing their house. She comes to her feet with rapid grace to call once for Lucien but he already stands in the doorway under the amber bug lamp.”He needs us” she states finding the white eyes of her pack mate as hers begin to simmer into scarlet.
“Go Porsche! Rush to him! I'll be there shortly!” the elder were-male tells her. The human scent of her, flowery-rich to his nostrils disappears with the wind to be replaced with the sound of four paws streaking to the East. Instantly hes on her trail.
“Damned suck monkeys!” Gabby snarls reaching for the daggers instinctively and finding her sides bare. Her mind falters then as her Professor spins about showing her his wide back and keeping her between himself and the birch. The low issuance of his growl snaps her blank mind back to the here and now and the appearance from the mists of night of four adult vampires. Where the hell is Sweetie-Pie Gabby wonders as Dominick drops into a defensive crouch.
“Get to the mill Gabrielle” she hears him tell her as merry laughter lilts around them. Two woman and two men move towards them, their steps smooth yet measured. “Run and do not look back.”
She opens her mouth to argue, to tell him she would not leave him here to face this group when a face white as vanilla frosting drops down from the limbs above her.
“Peek-A-Boo!” black eyes glimmer as thin small fangs smile at her.”Your it!” Tiny cold hands lift her from her feet before the man can turn about wholly. She can hear Dominick call her name but the icy petite fingers wrapped around her neck keep her from responding. In an instant shes then thrown to the forest floor, the impact knocking the air from her.
She lies on the leaf litter attempting to pull in some air to her vacant lungs. Her eyes open as her head turns sluggishly to see whirling flashes, teasing , taunting peals of laughter resound off the woods. They were toying with him the bastards she wheezes. She comes to her knees, her hair falling out of its neat chignon and cluttered with pine needles when something makes her look back at the man she moments ago had been a moths wing away from kissing. Was it the sounds of clothing shredding, or the last word he had called to her, 'Run!' slipping from English into a snapping frothy howl? She would never know but the transformation was lightening fast, the last tatters of his clothing not landing when the golden werewolf leaps at one of the women.
“Dominick!” she coughs out but hes beyond hearing her pained words. His jaws clamp onto the black womans neck before she can move Gabby witnesses. One scream comes from the vampire, long and high-toned reeking of the torments of Hell then her throat is torn open. The sounds make the novice Van Helsing swallow bile quickly as she staggers to her green sneakers. Ripping flesh and rasping gurgles as the were-male shakes his head violently holding his victim to the ground with thick paws on her shoulders.
The others respond to the death of their own with howls of anguish that reverberate deep into Gabby's mind, locked there for eternity. She falls back as they leap onto the wolf now. God the sounds were vivid! Course calls of vile names and then the pained yelp of a dog. That cry forces her a faltering step forward, to help him somehow, her hand digging deeply into the pocket of her jeans, finding the vials Sarah had insisted she carry on her person this morning. What they were she had not a clue but this was all she had and she by damn would....
She shrieks in surprise as a the gold and russet canine is flung past her like a child's doll.. He slams into the base of a wide pine with a cry of pain, slowly coming to his feet he holds his front right paw off the ground. She sees the gaping torn wounds on his shoulder and leg in the cool moonlight, the crimson of his blood staining the thick fur. Her heart lurches as his wild red eyes move over her then he's gone. Gone in a rush of air as the coven attempt to tear their hated enemy to pieces.
They appear a hundred yards to her left, knocking trees over amid growling and hissing and gnashing teeth and she runs for them. Her hands wet with sweat she tugs one vial from her pocket while she runs not to the mill as he had instructed but to him. The 'pop' of the small cork from the old thin glass bottle isn't heard by any but her as she comes within a few yards of the foursome. She ducks as one of the male vamps, the one with long dark hair flies past, his abdomen ripped and shredded.
“You really suck at this game Gabby Devon Van Helsing. Your supposed to tag ME!” Amanda giggles leaping out of nowhere in front of her. Her long blond-white hair pulled into two adorable pig-tails tied with long streaming ribbons. Another agonized howl from the wolf ahead of her, another then another as the littlest vampire bars her path.
“Okay pumpkin, you're it!” Gabby hisses and flings the contents of the vial in honey-bumpkins face. The child begins to scream and paw at her face as it erupts with huge blistering welts, steam rising from her cheeks as Amanda trips over her tiny wittle Keds to land on her bottom. Gabby winces at the sight then whips the empty vial at the moaning, writhing vampire at her feet. She'd kick her too but she really didn't want to see her face again to be honest.
“Bastardly mongrel!” the thin blond woman spits into his face as she and Dominick roll about in the woods, her ebony eyes full of hate as he snaps at her neck. She moves way too quickly, leaping away from the were-male on its back allowing the ivory skinned man room to hurl a boulder at the wolf as it comes unsteadily to its four feet. Ribs crack as the rock slams into his side driving Dominick into the Allagash. He scrabbles in the mud when his muzzle breaks the surface, looking even now as his nails claw in the soft wet soil for her, for Gabrielle. Somehow even in this fevered pitch her scent fills his soul.
Her fear was heady and thick on the air, and he coughs up river water and foamy blood, long rivulets drip from his jowls when the she-vamp falls to his pelted back and sinks her fangs deep into his neck. He reacts to the acid-like venom madly, flinging his wide head wildly to each side trying to get a-hold of her, but he can't. Her stench covers him, sinks deep into his sodden fur as her poison races through his blood. Its when the canine collapses under the thin woman that she releases her hold on his flesh, tearing a chunk of meat loose and spitting it into the Allagash as she sits astraddle on his back.
She whips her wet hair from her face to smile widely at her man when shes cleared off the huffing shuddering gold back by a soundless wave of rich ebony fur. Lauren Crowlings lands on her back fighting violently with the she-wolf as her mate leaps the wide river easily to help as his woman screams his name, 'Alan!!' over and over.
Gabby streaks past the crying girl feeling still a moment of regret for maiming a child. She trips over her feet, her throat tight as she runs to the riverbank, to him. She can make out one bare male arm lying on the grass where it met the steep rivers bank. He was human?? Why?! Did that mean he was, and she forces that thought from her mind. The fight across the slow moving river goes on she hears in a distant place for her sight is locked on that arm, that un-moving arm of his.
Gabby slips then in the pine litter and leaves, her feet fly out from under her as yet another giant wolf pounces from the trees. He lands directly in front of her, lips pulled back to show her his long pointed canines, brown and gray fur standing on edge across his broad shoulders. She stares into eyes milky white as he lowers his head and rumbles at her, his growl making her skitter back crab-like on her tush. Her eyes widen as he chuffs in a deep rich pull of air, for after he takes that breath his furred body ripples and he leaps at her, white eyes gone to scarlet in his madness for Van Helsing blood.
Feral Female - December 20, 2008 01:08 PM (GMT)
Divinity-Issue # 13
Joshua studies the thick door closely as Daniel waits in silence beside him. The young man knew his liege well, knew his moods and expressions much as he knew his own. He has been at his side since they had been sworn into the Church's holy service so many centuries ago. For where else would he go? His parents had died when he had been just ten seasons old, as had his elder four brothers, taken by the pox that had run rampant through his small village. He for some reason had never contracted the fatal sickness and so he had applied to his lieges lady, for `twas known she was as fair and generous as she was comely.
She had accepted him into her employ, bidding him to resume his milking duties as he had at home. So it had come that when the Knight had returned from one of the crusades he had found this stick thin lad now residing in his barn. Daniel could still recall the fear he had felt when this man had called him forth after conferring with the Lady Margarete. He had slunk from the cow stall like a well-whipped hound, not daring to look into the green eyes that fell on his cowed redhead.
“My lady has told me of your plight Daniel. But do you find a stall a fitting place for a young man?”
“Aye m`lord. `Tis most warm at night.”
He daren`t move he had thought as suddenly the large man spoke to him yet again.
“I find I am in need of a squire to attend me. Would you wish to be in such employ Daniel Smith?”
His head had come up rapidly then. Surely his ears had deceived him!! The smithy's boy being asked to such a exalted position?!?!?!? He stared openly at the man, then at the small girl child he held upon his hip. The lady of the keep stood in the arch of her home, smiling at him with warm grace in her eyes.”Have you been rendered witless lad?”
“No m`lord! I should be honored to squire for you!!” he had gushed falling to his knees and placing his filthy head to his masters boots.
“Rise Daniel, bend your knee to no man save the Lord. There are two things I require of you squire.”
“One being you shall move from the barn and sleep in the main room. Secondly you will report to the wash-woman and bathe.”
“But m`lord!!” he had flipped begging brown eyes to his Knight but the mans face was firmly set.”Yes m`lord” he remembers muttering fearing the strong lye soap almost as much as his new masters displeasure.
So he had served his Knight for five years. He had seen lands unlike any he could have imagined back at his fathers smithy. Glorious lands filled with people of differing hues and dialects. That had come to a halt upon their last great crusade, when their ship had not returned to the rich, fertile lands of England but instead had carried them here, to Rome. He had heard the priests explanations to the warriors of God, how the Templars had been called heretics and were even now being led to the gallows under the Kings order. His young hands had trembled with anger much as his Knights had when the fathers had stepped before them.
“From this day forward Brother Joshua you will wear the white robes you have been denied” one of the bent, rasping clergymen had said as he held the golden cup out to the tall man beside him.
“Will my family be spared persecution if I drink?” his liege had asked in a choked manner. The heads of the priests had nodded vigorously. And so his Knight had drank well and deep. And so had he. A squire stood in loyal service of his Knight.
“I have need of your service Daniel” Joshua mutters then, snapping the teen from his mental wanderings.
“Hasten yourself to the Devon home. Stay there until you hear from me” Joshua says quietly his gaze still focused on the stout door to the priests counsel chambers.
“But my liege!” Daniel hisses in hushed tones.”Did you not say that woman was a...”
“Witch yes” the Vanguard replies turning his head to look down at the wide brown eyes gaping at him.”Gabrielle may be in more danger than I initially thought. There are matters here I must attend. I would have you guard the girl and her mother.”
The rusty red head of his squire nods even though Joshua can see the fear on his freckled face.”I shall defend them or die M`Lord!”
“Let us pray it does not come to that. Now go Daniel. Let not the womans diatribes dissuade you in your service to me” the angel whispers placing a hand to the boys shoulder.
“They shan`t M`Lord” the young man replies softly and dashes off, getting wearisome looks from the men he passes in his haste. Joshua then turns to place a hand to the rusted knob, knowing his actions barging into the counsel would be considered appalling, for a private session with the priests was much like the rite of confession. Sacrosanct. But such was the cross he had to bear he knows as he opens the door and strides in, ignoring the thick white lit candle mounted on the wall beside the portal. The signal to others that a counsel was being heard. The horrified and indignant gasps of the priests greet him as does the cool voice of his brother of God.
“Brother Joshua, please enter” Malachi beckons from the damp stone-walled circular room”As this concerns you most directly.”
The Knight Templar closes the door silently behind him.
With no small amount of pleasure Porsche's teeth sink deeply into the forearm of the woman under her. Although They leave a horrid taste on her tongue she clamps down harder still. The vampires scream keens loudly in her pointed ears as she begins to wrest her black head back and forth rapidly. The impact from the male clears her off, and the two tumble wildly through the woods, his hands clawing at her throat as she lunges over and over at the glimmering white of his bared neck.
He manages to get his legs under her to kick her off, the female things wails carrying for miles making the night creatures fall silent. As Porsche picks herself up the rabid thoughts of her pack-mate slip in, and the silence from her Alpha now becomes evident. Whipping herself about she runs to the bank and leaps to the other side, four feet landing neatly as her keen night-vision finds Lucien in mid-air and a young woman on her back as the lupine lands on her.
She looks but for a second at Dominick then lowers her small head, the whirling flashes of Them racing to grab the bawling child ignored as she slams her shoulder into Lucien. He snarls, flinging his larger head about to rip into his attacker while the dark-haired woman somehow has the temerity to call them both names as she then fumbles to her feet. Lucien's mind is mad and heated the she-wolf feels, but his actions are not acceptable with the rules they all live by. So she fights him back, growling and biting at him as he attempts to get to the young woman.
No more than a rustle now fills the Maine forest, the choked whisper of the stranger behind them kneeling in the pungent, savvy mud of the Allagash beside the fallen man.
“Professor?” wafts by as the warm night breeze helps to clear the air of the stench of vampire. Porsche blocks the larger males moves quickly, her speed effectively keeping him back, letting his anger leech from him slowly. The brown muzzle laced with soft gray lashes out at her once more, but she knows he tires. The run here causing him pain in that bad leg. She can feel his ire cooling as he limps back and forth repeatedly. Soon she pads up to him, letting her emotions shift to calming thoughts, serene feelings. When he turns roughly she finds his white gaze on her and she yips at him shortly, his soft growl her reply. Lucien was back, more or less.
Now she turns her thoughts back to Dominick and sprints over quickly. The night wind is fresh now, the three of Them gone with the drafts of sickness that blew them here. Somehow the she-wolf sees this petite thing has managed to roll her brother to his back. She walks in slowly as the girls head spins about to level her a pained yet look.
“He's hurt!” Gabby shouts at the black wolf that steps cautiously to the other side of Dominick.” You're his friend right?!”Gabrielle inquires as she swipes a filthy hand over her face to get her hair out of her eyes. She looks deeply into the wolfs eyes and sees what can only be surprise. Then a short grunt from behind them as shes rolled back by the brown wolf with a hostile growl.”I'm not going to hurt him!” she yells glaring at the thickly built lupine. A series of sounds passes between the two wolves then Gabby hears as she crawls back to the man lying nude half in and half out of the Allagash.
Another snap from the bigger wolf at her, a soft whimper from the thinner black one. Was he breathing?? Dear God let him not be dead, please, please, please. She lifts her gaze from the injured man as the brown one levels his milky gaze at her.
“He needs help! Medical help! Can you at least shift back so I can talk to you?!” she asks and hears her voice rising in fear. Neither respond, neither change back to human and Gabby snarls at the two. This makes the whiskers over the black ones left eye arc a bit.
“Fine! Don't talk to me! I'm going to get him to my mother, she can help!” and she nudges the still lowly growling taupe werewolf aside with attitude and begins to heft her teachers thick arm over her shoulder. Again shes knocked aside by the umber wolf and as she lands on her bottom soundly her anger and fear explode.
“Bad dog!!” she rails and swats the canine on his wet black nose as hard as she can. “My mothers a Wiccan, a healer! Do-you-understand-me!?” Gabrielle asks as she sits in the cool, damp mud. The moon shines on the large wolfs face and if werewolves in full lycanthrope stage can show emotions, this ones was shock. But then the sleek black one ruffs a few small barks at her, or the other werewolf Gabby isn't sure, and with one last look the bigger brown one slips his blocky head under Dominick's limp arm. Soon all three are struggling to get the man onto the girthy back of the chestnut canine.
“Our cars are parked at the mill, on the road.”
So they proceed through the trees, two werewolves and the Van Helsing. The ebony wolf on one side of Lucien, Gabrielle on the other they work at keeping Dominick on the strong back of the chestnut were-male. Please, please, please, please keep breathing Gabby chants over and over hoping God would not hate her for helping one of the races she had sworn to destroy. This man,this werewolf, this one was, well, he just WAS. Gabrielle drags the back of her hand over her wet eyes as the cars finally come into view.
Sarah carries her cup of herbal tea back to the kitchen table as the small radio plays from its happy spot next to the ceramic pots of bee balm and dewy wood mint growing by the open window. A smile of whimsy flutters over her as she sips and her bare foot begins to move to the song. Gideon had sung this to her at times when he was enjoying a moment of lightheartedness she recalls. When she was carrying Gabrielle he would be struck silly and would dance her about his home, his rugged right hand on her back and hers clasped in his left. Oh she would giggle at him as they spun about the grand dining room, his singing voice pleasant and rich as he changed lyrics to suit his need...
'Golden hair and ruby lips
Sparks fly from her fingertips
Echoed voices in the night
She's a restless spirit on an endless flight-
Her pale blue eyes skim over the mountain of bills and her checkbook lying before her, and yet she chooses to fall into the song and sing along as her memory lifts her from this small kitchen back into his arms.
Well I know you want to love her
Let me tell you brother
Shes been sleeping
In the devils bed-'
A brilliance of light beside her makes her jolt and jostle her tea from her chipped mug onto her linen skirt. She utters an oath and lifts her gaze not to the Van Helsing's papal liaison but to a lean boy gripping a small golden sword in his hand.
“Are the priests so desperate that they're forcing children into their service now?” she inquires waspishly as she rises to her feet.
“I am not a child! I am fifteen!!!” he barks back at the witch, his palm damp on the hilt of his sword.”I am bid here to protect you and your daughter.”
She lifts her eyes from the stain shes scrubbing on by the sink to find him standing ramrod straight, his pointed jaw tight and tipped up proudly.
“Bid by who?” she asks catching the crunch of tires outside then the slamming of her car-door. Gabrielle was home she sighs inwardly. Now she could relax.
“My liege Sir Joshua Belmonte of the Holy Order of the Knights Templar to whom I have sworn my covenant and allegiance!” he replies briskly, his face growing as ruddy as his brick colored hair as he speaks.
“Your liege has sent you here? Go back to Joshua and tell him I'd sooner have werewolves curled on my carpet than have one of the Church's butchers in my home!” Sarah spits at him letting her tan skirt fall back to her calves. The boy fumbles for his words as the back door into the cramped kitchen slams open and her daughter barrels in covered in brambles and mud and, dear Goddess was that blood?!?!
“Mom!!” she runs to Sarah and grabs both of her mothers upper arms, her dark eyes wild with pain.”Help me please!!”
“Gabrielle!” Sarah sputters with her heart in her throat,”Who did this to you? Where are you hurt!?”
“No, Mom I'm fine! This blood, it isn't mine! Who the hell are you?” Gabby asks of the young squire who opens his mouth to explain,”Who cares!”she says rudely while her frenzied gaze falls back to her mother,”Mom he needs you! Now! Come on!” she begins pulling on the blond woman who still is looking her child over anxiously.
“You're not making sense Gabrielle! Who needs me?” Sarah queries then follows her daughters harried look to the doorway. Her mind stops dead cold as she takes in the two large wolves dripping brown water to her dusty tile floor from their fur, the larger brown one sniffing at the air eagerly as if it were attempting to pinpoint something, or someone. Her daughter shakes her softly but she can't rip her gaze from the, the..”You brought werewolves to my door? To this home?? Gabrielle have you lost your mind?! Get those murderous.........things out of here! NOW!!!”
'Woo hoo witchy woman
See how high she flies
Woo hoo witchy woman
Shes got the moon in her eyes'
Feral Female - January 3, 2009 11:28 AM (GMT)
Divinity-Issue # 14
Gabrielle kneels beside her mothers couch, her fingers pale blue but still she wrings out the baby blue washcloth over the roasting pan of ice water then places it over his fevered brow. His powerful body shudders in response to the cold cloth and she battles with him yet again to keep the knitted blanket of pale rose and dark pink over him. She was exhausted beyond what she thought she could endure, and yet, here she stayed.
“That which does not kill us makes us stronger” she whispers to him as he relents suddenly and she tugs the heavy covering up to the middle of his broad chest. “So when you wake up Professor think how strong you'll be.”
Hours had passed and the small home was silent, Sarah now upstairs in her bed trying to grasp a couple hours of rest before she had to go to work. Gabby pushes her hair from her face as she falls back to sit on her legs while Dominick shivers with ferocity, his hair sodden with sweat as his wolf-rich blood battled the toxins from the vampires bite. Her hand lingers on his forearm that hangs flaccidly off the sofa to the floor. The soft snore of her Vanguards squire mixing with the soft chuffing of two wolves curled on the carpet. The ones SHE had let back in.
Her fingertips move over the course gold hair covering his skin as her bleary mind wanders back. Sarah had been close to insanity when her gaze had fallen to the werewolves in her kitchen Gabby recalls looking over at the two lupines. Misty white eyes meet hers as he rests his muzzle on his front paws. He watched her closely, too closely she tends to think lost in the feel of course male hair under her soft questing touch and her memories.
Her mother had screamed hideous names at the wolves with anger such as Gabby had never seen. Sarah was usually placid and serene, maybe a touch loopy her daughter thought. But livid? Never. The womans ferocity had staggered Gabby for a moment but she knew why the animosity was present. She herself had felt very much the same way when she had first met Dominick. But now, now she fought alongside her mother to keep this were-male alive. Why?? Why not let him die as she should, as her mother wanted?? Why??She blinks at the swell of something that lurches up in her chest. Why indeed??
His skins blistering with heat she notices finding her fingers moving like silk over the bend of his inner arm.
Somehow she had managed to pull her mothers blood-lust riddled mind from the two creatures and back to her. The radio still played on in the kitchen she now just notices as Daniel, she thinks thats his name, grunts once clasping his sword to his chest in his sleep. The haunting words tugging her up to and onto her green sneakers. She carries the tepid roaster of water out with her, the touch of white eyes on her stiff back as she enters the ramshackle kitchen. Sarah's salves and ointments, herbs and teas still tossed helter skelter about Gabby sees while she dumps the pan-full down the sink and begins to draw fresh cold water.
'Oh mirror in the sky
What is love
Can the child within my heart rise above
Can I sail through the changing ocean tides
Can I handle the seasons of my life?'
She spins the rough black dial from the classic rock her mother favored to engage the C.D. that sits inside. Her music, that would be much better. Much better. She was afraid to listen to anymore of Stevie Nicks words as that lurch resounds in her chest again. The pan half full she moves to the freezer, seeking more ice for him, to bathe him in. Her mothers charge to her when she had straightened from her patient after who knew how long. 'Keep him cool Gabby. I've done what I can but I've never attempted to save a, a werewolf before. I don't know if the healing herbs will work on , him.'
The clatter of ice cubes into the roaster seems horribly loud in the silence she notices as she wipes her hands down the side of her peasant top to dry them. She notices how stiff her shirt is, his dried blood. She closes her eyes for a moment, the tide washing over her once again. She hoped her mom's skills would be enough, she prayed they would be. Why are you praying for this demon bubbles up inside her thoughts.
“Because” she whispers lost in the internal sight of their struggle to even get him from the Audi into the house. Sarah had only consented to help when Gabby had lied, had blatantly fabricated a tale that the vampires had attacked her Professor and these two werewolves had saved him. Only when the Wiccan knew a human was harmed would she move. Somehow they had wrested the huge man back onto the taupe wolves back, rolling him from the thick haunches gently to the couch to spare him the jostle of the steps to the second floor. Then Sarah had cast the two canines out of her home, slamming the front door in their furry faces. Gabby pads back to the dim living-room, the ever wary snow-hued eyes on her as she drops the rag back into the pan and resumes her seat beside him on the worn carpeting. Her daggers and tote lay on the floor beside the front door, the wolves even now placing as much distance as they could between themselves and the blades of the Templars.
She leans up placing her small hand on his head under a wild swatch of sun-colored hair that she had to peel from his blistering forehead. He was still a raging inferno she sighs with worry as her dark eyes move over his bared shoulders, to check the bandages she and Sarah had placed on the gruesome, jagged wound. The lone lamp that was lit over on the end table wasn't quite bright enough, but she could see no fresh blood had seeped through and she was grateful for that much at least. After she twists the washcloth over the pan and wipes his face with it does she let the worry back in about the venom. Didn't he tell her the vampires bite was lethal to a lycanthrope?? Had she read that somewhere?? In the journal? Oh hell she couldn't remember!!!
With chilled fingers she tugs the pink and rose cover down to begin again. Dragging the smooth cloth over his furred chest slowly it comes to her that Sarah had commented about the bite, how they could only wish the evil would do him in. Gabby shakes her head at that utterance, flings it from her thoughts. Her wild locks tumble over her eyes again, and she shoves them back with a damp cold hand. She could still see the anger in those soft blue eyes of her mothers when she had stood over him freshly rolled to the sofa as Sarah pulled her favorite blanket over him then had kneeled to examine the wounds. Her gaze had flown to her daughter with vehemence, her glasses down her nose a small bit Gabby recalls laying the cloth over his rapidly thrumming heart.
'When did this happen?” Sarah had inquired looking at Gabby with gathered brows.
“Less than an hour ago” she had replied frantic to be doing something. Anything!
“Dammit Gabrielle!” Sarah had hissed coming to her bare feet with speed fueled by outrage.”He's one of them isn't he?” she had demanded, pointing a stiff finger at the canines scratching at the front door.
She wets her rag again, leaning over him some to wipe at the side of his neck. His eyelids flutter as he moves listlessly, too tired or too sick to fight with her anymore she assumes. She had thought her mom was going to refuse to help at that moment. Maybe she would have if Gabrielle hadn't pulled her brown eyes from his handsome face then to look at her mother.
“Mom, please. Please help him, he's, he's, he's just, please?”
Sarah had stared at her then, making Gabby wonder if she had said too much. But in retrospect she would have had to fallen to her knees and kissed her mothers tiny feet to try to save Dominick, she would have. Her thin hand freezes in its movement, letting the cloth linger where his shoulder met his neck. She would have begged, lied, stolen, spit in Gods face to save him. She chokes out a small sound of anguish, or pain, something that makes the ebony wolf lift its head from the carpet to peer at her oddly.
She didn't see it of course, for she was spinning on the realization that this man, this huge were-male who didn't even fit on their long couch properly, that she was falling for him. If she had strength enough to faint she would. But she was too tired to swoon, and she didn't swoon anyway she reminds herself, the black wolfs head going back down but its eyes not closing. She was a Van Helsing! She was a slayer of monsters! She was falling in love with her sworn enemy. Oh God she was.
The cloth simmers in her grip so she moves in some sort of automaton style, dunk, twist, bathe. Lather, rinse, repeat. She was wasn't she? Dunk, twist, bathe. Her breasts begin to heave, her breathing becoming as rapid as his as he fought for his life. She was wasn't she? Soft scrubbing waves spill up from deep down, inside her... the steady pants of the wolves, a small rustle from the boy across the room, Godsmack spinning rapidly in the kitchen....
Her lips feel parched as she looks down at him, so very weak under her tiny hand. He had fought to save her, to protect her. No matter what her mother thought of him Gabby knew this man was no monster. He may carry the curse in his veins but he was no murderer, he was a man struggling to rise above his circumstances. She pulls the cloth up over his cheeks, the heavy beard catching the material some. Her gaze falls to his lips, parted slightly as he pants roughly in short, heated gasps. He was so close to death it made her feel weak to even think of it.
She falls back to sit on her legs clutching the cloth tightly in her tension filled hands. She WAS falling for him she admits. Her thoughts whirl about her like a wild carousel ride from Hell. Her experience with men was limited to one date for the Halloween dance in her senior year, and that had ended with Mitch Langley getting his face slapped for pawing at her boob. She avoided the guys in school for the most part. They were lecherous immature baboons who found her to be as annoying as she did them. Gabby pulls a face as his words come back to slap her as she had slapped him that night .”Thats the last time I let your friends talk ME into a sympathy date!”
Stupid boorish lout she curses over the sting of past slurs. Then a wafting smile comes to her, she sounded like the Professor she giggles gingerly. So now what Gabby ponders as she settles her back to the side of the couch. Her legs were happy now she concedes, dropping the washcloth back into the roaster. She gathers his heavy arm up with both hands to place it over her lap as she surreptitiously laces her fingers through his. He needed more of the herbal tea to help fight his raging fever. In a minute she promises keeping her bleary gaze on their hands. So differing, one so large and powerful, one petite and fine-boned. Her lashes slip down as she lifts the mans hand to her lips for a darting kiss to his knuckles. Then she gives into the pull of the sandman, placing his arm across her chest her dark head lolls to the side to rest on his solid bicep.
Porsche raises her head when Lucien rises as quickly as he can and disappears into the kitchen, the sound of the screen-doors hinges small squeal signaling his departure. She comes to her paws then also and with a warm glance at the small woman sleeping under Dominick's arm, she follows him out. She knew Lucien was torn about this turn of events, but she wasn't. Porsche pads out into the humid night with a glad heart.
Her brother had found his one, the woman he painted with such passion and angst now dreamed peacefully with her hand in his. Maybe with her help the embers of attraction could be fanned into a raging bonfire of amore! She finds his scent easily and trots off to find Lucien. If they could just overcome a few small obstacles Porsche thinks as her paws carry her swiftly around the small home. Small obstacles such as Lucien, Gabriella's madre, Gabriella being a Van Helsing, the Vanguards presence and a coven of Them bent on destroying the feisty young woman. She stops beside her dear friend and falls to her black bottom. Did she say small obstacles? Madre Dios.
Her sleep-starved mind rustles and she curls into a tighter ball. Then the sound of his ragged call elbows exhaustion aside and Gabby comes awake with a startled jerk. Her head collides with the underside of the coffee-table making her swear out loud. Did he just cough out a small snicker??? She pulls herself from the floor to look at him, his arctic gaze cool on her as she rubs the sore spot on her head.
“Hey” she mutters softly.
“Hey” he comments back watching her intently as she comes over to kneel beside him. The room was heavy with a myriad of smells, hers the most compelling to him.”You look better” she smiles awkwardly as she places her palm to his forehead. Cool and dry. Her face shows her relief Dominick sees as her hand lingers on his brow.”The fevers gone. I should check, uhm, your” she stammers dropping her head quickly as his fingers now wrap tenderly about her thin wrist, forcing her cool palm to remain. If he could summon a word, or perhaps two, he'd speak them. Her shy glance from under bramble strewn hair strips his scholarly mind down to nothing. Nothing but fire that has little to do with vampire toxin. It was the heat of her that tugs him into the following question.
“Were you worried about me Miss Devon?” he asks gruffly, his throat dry as the query passes. She doesn't fight his hand holding her fingertips to his face, no, she looks down at him and nods but once as she digs into his lonely soul with her gaze.
“I hate that sub”she lies with a shuddering whisper then drops her head to press her lips to his. Her blanket of chestnut hair falls over them, he still holding her wrist as she leans hesitantly onto his chest. How long it had been since he had tasted a woman he can't recall but as she breathes out a warm sigh over his mouth he knows it would matter little. The rush that scores him body and soul was due to her, Gabrielle. She was tentative and clumsy in her manner and her innocence in the art of seduction hardens his male body instantly.
His chest rumbles as his free hand moves up her back, pressing her breasts to his chest tighter. She shudders against him as she grows bolder at his response. The kiss flames higher, the mere touch now growing deeper as she parts her moist mouth under his temperate urging. When her tongue meekly touches his bottom lip he releases her wrist and takes a fistful of auburn hair tugging her mouth to his as he leads her. She melts into him as he teaches her, his student in much more than history it now appeared. Her pheromones drown him in her desire, her mouth smothers him in lust primal and fire-red.
Then in her haste and youthful passion she slides a leg over him, her thigh rubbing intimately over his evident want of her. Her ardor climbs higher. Her mouth drinks deeper of him, her hips press her tight to his need. Some cold voice of reason enters his mind, it wars with the over-powering want of her gyrations matched with her pleading mouth. It forces him to push her off of him gingerly, to remove her all too tempting offer before he forgot just how inexperienced she really was.
“No Gabrielle” he huffs as her knees drop to the floor roughly. She stares at him with clear confusion for a minute then she gasps, her face flaring deep red as her small hand covers her kiss swollen lips. “We need to slow things down and..” he pants roughly as she comes to her green sneakers with a horrified groan and races up the stairs.
“Gabrielle! Please, just, dammit!” he snarls coming to his feet as the room swirls in a rush of vertigo. The rose and pink afghan slips from him and he fumbles to catch the damn thing and wrap it hastily about him, and his still rather aroused lower half. He trips over the covering as he places his foot to the bottom step. She had misunderstood, he had seen it on her face, the pain of humiliation in those lovely eyes of hers. Another step up, a smaller wave of dizziness. He had to explain to her that he did not cast her off because he didn't desire her, God and Queen far from it! A small pained cry from Gabby above him and he lifts his gaze to find her bouncing off Sarah on the steps. He freezes much like his canine relative looking down a barrel as soft blue eyes bore into him. The maternal look telling him he had been well and truly, what was the term they used nowadays? Ahh yes. Busted.
“Mrs. Van Helsing I presume?”
Feral Female - January 10, 2009 09:53 AM (GMT)
Divinity-Issue # !5
“Now that brother Malachi has presented his side, may I be allowed to address the counsel?” Joshua inquires of the five elder priests who sit across the barren room from him. Their silent nods lead him to rise slowly and calmly as his fellow Vanguard now takes the lone hard seat he had occupied previously. His sword lies on the table before the priests as is custom, no weapons are allowed in any disputed hearing for fear of violence among the angels. It has happened before he admits, rarely `tis true, but none the less tempers have risen in the past and swords have crossed.
“Fathers, I have heard my brothers worries and claims in respectful silence. I stand before the counsel now to refute much of what has been said previously” he begins, the ruddy flames from the torches making his white hair and neat beard glow with a touch of apricot.
“The charges brought forth by Malachi are very serious ones Joshua” Father Aspere states, speaking for the assembled holy men.
“I am aware of the charges he makes” the Vanguard announces with nary a flicker of the anger that has built within him over the past two hours.”I wish to bring up some key points that may have been overlooked in brother Malachi's well warranted list of grievances.”
“Thank you Father” Joshua inclines his head respectfully at the seated Jesuits.”I first wish to state that as the papal liaison to the Van Helsings since Pope Blessed Pius the Ninth first anointed Abraham into holy service, these concerns should have been brought to me.”
“According to Malachi they have been Joshua” Father Aspere comments, the wooden chair under Malachi creaking slightly as the warrior moves.
“Not in any formal fashion Father” Joshua quickly counters.”Had they been this counsel would not have been necessary. As the usual dictates of concern have been superseded, and with greatest respect to brother Malachi,” his ivory head bows slightly to the raven haired angel to his left,” I will speak to each of his concerns.”
“Let us first touch upon the recent transgressions of your newest disciple then.”
“Gabrielle is a fledgling Father `tis true and she has much to learn yet but in her defense she has already dispatched a vampire with no training in combat to speak of” Joshua replies.
“But she did so with no offering of redemption to the beast, did she not?”
“Yes. But it was a matter of self-preservation Father. She certainly is not the first of her lineage to face a member of a demon race intent on her destruction, nor I should hasten to add, will she be the last” Joshua comments smoothly to a few soft murmurs.
“So you find nothing wrong with her actions?”
“No Father, I do not. The Templar blades that all of her family have carried were consecrated by Blessed Pius the Ninth for that very reason. She acted well and with the heart and skill that is required of a warrior of Christ” he states with conviction. Another soft rustling of chair and armor from the accuser.
The priests whisper among themselves, robed heads together in muted conversation as the two angels wait in silence.
“We are willing to overlook her inexperience this one time as we were all at one time mere lambs in our service to the Church.”
“Thank you Father Aspere.”
“I am speaking for all here when I say the request of ex-communication from Malachi does worry us more than the death of one fetid creature of Lucifer. Over the past generation the lineage of the Van Helsings has been sullied. This is a point you cannot deny Joshua” Aspere`s dark eyes glitter in the firelight, the rest of his lined face shadowed in his hood.
He knew this would be addressed. Had been expecting it truthfully to rear its head with veracity before now if he were honest. The passing of Father Louis a few days ago had promoted Father Aspere to his coveted counsel seat. Father Louis had been most forgiving of Gideon's' mistake' as it kept a valuable slayer of monsters plying his craft. And that was the most important thing was it not?? The eradication of the demon races so that the masses knew not of them? Wasn't it ?? He draws a breath to help gather his thoughts while his brother in Gods battle says nothing.
“Gideon Van Helsing chose his wife not to tarnish his family name Father or in any plot to bring shame to his Church, he chose her with the touch of our Lords most prized gift to his sons and daughters, the gift of love.”
“But brother Joshua is it not bid for us to be above the call of that kind of 'love'? As men are we not expected to rise above the lust that women inspire in our loins? Did our Father not set us above the beasts and the birds, above the sin of woman? Gideon was a warrior in our fight, and he chose to lie with a witch. He chose to plant his seed in the womb of a creature who goes against our doctrines. He chose to secretly take the holy vows of matrimony with this succubus and then hide the child they conceived from the guiding hand of the Church. This is all fact Joshua, it is not a fabrication. And all of this happened while you were Gideons liaison.”
“Is my devotion to the Church being called into account?” Joshua asks more heatedly than he should, his hands balling into fists at his side.
“No, no of course not!” the priests gnarled hands come up in a calming motion.”We are merely presenting facts that are leading brother Malachi, and this counsel, to wonder about the taint that may run in the Van Helsing blood due to the cross-breeding of Gideon to a worshiper of the fallen one.”
“I beg your forgiveness Fathers” Joshua utters softly.”I have atoned for my sins regarding the incident with Gideon. In due respect I fail to see why this has been called into counsel. Do we hold the sins of the father against the child?” he questions with some vigor.
“No we do not. It is not the sins of the child we are putting forth, it is the possibility of her genetics and her upbringing that has been cast into the doubt.”
“Where was this doubt when I approached this very same bench regarding Gabrielle's anointment? I beg you forgive my lack of understanding, but was it not this very counsel who regarded a new servant with great favor despite its gender?” Joshua argues looking from one priest to the other.”I do not see why one error on the part of a novice warrants my brothers attention so. I am the liaison and.....”
The soft tapping upon the counsel door brings all their heads to the portal as the head of one of the Vatican's acolytes peers in, the young mans face appearing fearful at his actions.”I beg the counsels forgiveness for interrupting but Brother Malachi has received a communique.”
Shaking hands deliver the rolled parchment to the Vanguard, then the hasty retreat of the acolyte and the door closing silently brings the attention of the priests back to the Knight Templar before them.
“If I may?” Joshua queries ignoring the sound of paper being re-rolled behind him.”I was putting forth that....”
“I am sorry to interrupt Brother Joshua, but my services are required. Fathers, I thank you . Go with God” Malachi mutters as his long legs carry him from the chamber rapidly, the scroll clenched in his fist tightly as he opens the thick door. Some emotion deeply close to suspicion deep in the vermilion eyes that stay on his back until the portal snaps shut.
The Devon home
“Mrs. Van Helsing, I know that this appears to be...”
“It appears you were seducing my daughter! Leave my home. Now!”
“I assure you...”
“Place one more foot on that step and I will not hesitate to use this!”
At that threat the were-male falls back a stair or two. In the ladies hand is a small canning jar of what he must assume is essence of bane, a highly potent brew of concentrated wolfs-bane. It wouldn't kill him, but the vile juice was as caustic to his race as holy water was to Them. With as much bare skin exposed as he had hanging out, he decides discretion is the better part of valor.
“I need to speak to Gabrielle” he entreats with as much dignity as he could given his state.
“Get out!” she spits over the few steps separating them. “Get out of my house and leave my daughter alone!”
“I understand your feelings of contempt Mrs. Van Hel....”
“You understand nothing! All you know is death and dismemberment!You and your kind are a plague on this world! Wicked barbaric fiends!!Now get out!!” hells fire itself whips at him from her pale blue eyes.
“I am not a animal!” he growls back instinctively as he tightens the grip on the soft afghan about his lean hips.
“Stand down!” Daniel announces from behind the towering man, his sword held high to pierce the werewolf betwixt his shoulder blades.”Or be cast to the depths of Hell!!” a small jab at the thickly muscled back. The rumble from Dominick sends the hair on his thin arms to stand tall and his heart near to explode.
“Both of you leave my house! Neither of you are welcome here!” Sarah pants, her hair neat now but still in her robe and slippers.
“My liege Sir Joshua Belmo....”
“SILENCE BOY!!” the wolfman snarls, spinning about to knock the sword out of his hand in a whirring blur. Daniel gapes upward at the wild flash of crimson in his gaze, what could be seen under the mop of yellow hair. The squire also finds discretion to be a wise move at this juncture. Dominick turns back to the witch after giving the lad a raised lip and show of fang.”If we could just discuss what you saw. If I could just have a spare moment with your daughter it would all....”
“If you do not leave my home now, I will make a call to the Dean. He may not believe your a damned werewolf, but he will sure believe you were trying to have your way with Gabby!” her breathing is rapid and tense, the essence of bane sloshing in her jar wildly.
He studies her for moment, the hatred that wells off of her is unmistakable.”If you despise me so deeply why did you heal me?”
“I'm a Wiccan. We are healers. And that covenant to the Goddess includes even your kind! It was no less than I would do for a mangy dog” Sarah sneers at the man. She would be tied to a stake and set ablaze before she would speak of the look in Gabrielle's dark eyes when her daughter begged for this mans life. No she corrects. This creature, this murderer.”Now before I call the police leave. Leave and do not come near my daughter or me ever again.”
He finds he has no recourse but to do as she wishes. This WAS her home.
“As you wish. I owe you my life” he states roughly in a fall-back to a more refined accent.”I only wonder how Gabrielle grew into such a loving young woman raised with such prejudice.”
Her mouth opens with a gasp.
“Aye foul beast! Hasten yourself back to the, bloody hell!” Daniel scurries back when the man becomes a wolf before his very startled eyes. Oh dearest Father above! This was why he stayed at the Vatican! The creatures head is as wide as his mothers dear cow Mathilde, the gold shoulders being far too heavy in girth to even fit the door-jamb Daniel fears.
One last look up the dark stairwell, one tug of her scent deep into his lungs, then the canine barrels into the kitchen. Sarah peers down at her afghan on the floor at the same time the screen door slams shut, her grip finally loosening some on the watery concoction. Oh Gideon, what am I going to do she whispers to herself as she hears her little girls headboard slam into the too thin walls, the cries of a woman humiliated and heart-torn tugging at her mothers heart.
“If you please? M`lady Wiccan? I was just and true in my service to you and your daughter with the foul beast!” the red-haired boy mumbles with his back still flattened to her wall. “I beg ye not to turn me into a toad or mud-whallop!”
'Why do I spend so much time staring at this door?' Gabby wonders standing in the hall with her tote over her shoulder. If she had an ounce of sense she would have stayed home, or marched to the office and transferred from his class. She had mulled over those possibilities last night as she pretended she was asleep, ignoring Sarah's gentle scratch on her bedroom door after Dominick had left. A quiver passes over her and her dark head turns to catch a small group of students passing, two older guys giving her a wary glance as they move by.
Her hand tightens on the denim strap for a second, then loosens as the feeling passes. Slowly her sight returns to the portal and she lets a long breath out. This was the right thing to do she reaffirms herself. She was a Van Helsing, and Van Helsing`s didn't cower in their bedroom or attempt to cowardly switch classes! No! They faced the monsters head on! Yes they did! They stepped up to them and spit in their crisp blue eyes!
“Ha! Spurn me will you vile and wretched beast of the moors! Cast me aside will you?! I think not! For even though my eyes are red from weeping and my stomach howls at the fried egg that sits in it like a cold clap of cod I will not hide! I am the assassin! Fear me and prepare to defend your manly parts!!” she hisses at the closed door, flinging her thick ponytail back for emphasis. Her heart skidders as a cold wave tightens her spine in an instant.
“Are you okay?”
Gabrielle spins around to come face to face with the short pudgy girl from her class. She begins to slip her hand into her tote wishing she could just carry the daggers as Gabriel must have since this town had demon races thicker than fleas on a dogs rear apparently.
“You don't need those. I pose no more threat to you than the werewolf does.”
“So says you! What are you?” Gabby whispers finding calm green eyes peering up at her through a pair of smudgy granny-style glasses.” How do you know about Dom? The Professor?” she hopes the slip went unnoticed.
“Can you meet me at the park after school? Theres something I need to talk to you about since your the Van Helsing.”
“How the hell does everyone know that?! Is there some other-worldly blog that I've not been made aware of?” she snaps angrily at the girl with short blond hair.
“Can you? Its important. Very, very important. I can tell you how we all know.”
It takes a moment or two of serious thinking on Gabrielle's part but finally her head nods a yes.
“Good” she smiles up at Gabby laying her hand on the knob.”Oh, my names Tina by the way. And I'm one of Them” Tina smiles a nice fang-less smile and slips into class.
“Them? Oh good! What did you do today Gabby? Oh you know Mom, humiliated myself by throwing my randy body atop my half dead lupine-laden Professor, went to school, slept in economics, met a vampire at the park. Same old. And how was your day? Get any further on that spell of impotency you were working on for said lupine-laden Professor?”
“Miss Devon are you planning on joining us today or should you like a few more moments to finish your conversation with the door?” his smooth barely there accent tugs her from her dissertation. Oh hell, she has got to stop talking to herself! At least externally.
Feral Female - January 17, 2009 11:01 AM (GMT)
“The Achaemenid Empire was among one of the first Persian empires to rule Greater Iran. At the height of its power the Iranian Achaemenid Empire encompassed approximately 6.5 million square kilometers and became the largest empire of the ancient world” Gabby hears him saying as she studies the map of said Achaemenid Empire in her text. The map here was much easier to read than the one he had tugged down over the large blackboard she had decided. Her dark eyes roam over the page absently as she twirls a length of chestnut hair around her index finger.
“Can anyone tell me who forged this great empire?” he queries as she lingers on the sound of his voice, how warm it could be. The faintest trace of his English roots falling out with certain words he spoke.”Yes Tina?”
“Cyrus the Great?”
“Correct. Under the rule of Cyrus the Great the Empire went on to span three continents including territories of what? Gabrielle?”
“Yes Dominick?” she sighs with her hair bound around her finger lost somewhere in last night, adrift in the touch of his mouth under hers, the taste of his tongue as he teased hers, the feel of his body-hard-oh-so-hard, so firm, so fully....soft titters begin to wiggle in as a small tap on her desk pulls her hooded gaze from Lebanon and Syria up over the same hard male body she was just day-dreaming about, and the same part too. What were the chances?
“Although I do encourage a casual atmosphere in my class I do prefer to be referred to as Professor Kane” Dom admonishes her gently struggling to maintain his calm appearance as her eyes burn over him in a wave of elicit perusal. Fire scores off of her, scents thick with desire and need assail his heightened senses. Her cheeks bloom with a rose-tinted flush that he has watched climb up from the neck of her shirt to caress the soft column of her throat.
He turns from her before his body could embarrass him in front of his class. The huge rush of air flowing over her lips doesn't escape his ears, a barely there moan of humiliation. Gah! The woman was a fever barreling haphazardly through his bloodstream. Control. Yes he commands himself as he takes his seat quickly, control. If he could live his life the past two hundred odd years with a strangle-hold on his canine drives he most certainly could tamp down this wickedly all-consuming need for her.
The class begins to murmur as he forces his thoughts back to the lecture. He finds his notes amid papers that needed graded and lifts his eyes as he clears his throat for silence. Her gaze is intent upon him for a moment ripping him from the index cards in his hand with its pain. Then her head drops rapidly allowing the chestnut mass to shield her from his perusal. Damn he swears to himself. Damn him for doing this to her. As he falls back into the rhythm of his lesson her gaze never leaves her text. And he comes to the decision as he prattles on about Greco-Persian wars, he would speak to her this day. And he would let her down easily. It was the best thing for both of them he reasons replying with a pleased manner to a query about Cyrus` brother Ariaramnes. His affection for her would stay buried as it should have from the beginning. He could do this. He must do this. For her.
“Do you take the Lord God as your savior?”
The modest home resonates with sobbing pleas of forgiveness.
“Again beast I ask you, do you take the Lord God as your savior?”
Ebony eyes latch to the angels firm jaw as howls of grief lament about them. The mans lids drop as he nods but once, and the golden sword drives through his chest. Keens of anguish from the others rise as Alan howls out in agony for a scant second then his eyes snap open to look down at the shimmering blade run through him. Rich deep brown eyes fall to the angel as he passes over.
The Vanguard tugs his weapon from the hell-spawn smoothly turning on his heel to face the woman screeching at him. Malachi responds by tipping the chin of Lauren Crowlings head up with the gore covered end of his sword.
“I ask you creatures again, who dared to summon me?”
Lydia holds her daughter tightly to her huddled against the wall of her kitchen sobbing in fear. Amanda's blistered face buried into her mothers shoulder to hide her from the Vanguards ire.
“Alan!!” Lauren chokes out as a small droplet of her blood welts up on the angels blessed sword under her quaking jaw. The smell of death envelopes them as he studies her with eyes blue as the ocean and just as cold as its depths.”He sent the note! Please! Please forgive us!!” Lauren pleads trying to swallow down the icy grip of fear as her sister and niece whimper off to her right.
“I am not to be summoned from my duties as if I am your lackey. You now understand how great my displeasure is?”
“Yes!! Yes!!” she cries out terrified of joining the man she had taken as her lover five years ago. Her lie rips at her but she had no choice! She didn't want to die!! “By all thats holy please don't...”
His placid face falls into a sneer for the flicker of an instant as he lifts her chin even higher.”Do not allow the word holy to pass over your lips. You and your kind, all of the demon races are filth under the foot of the righteous!”
“Yes!! We're filth! Please! Please Angel of Death pass over us!!” Lauren sobs finding no remorse in the Vanguards countenance. She falls to her knees when the sword of gold is whipped aside.
The three female vampires now begin wailing their thanks to him. They attempt to touch his armor as they weep and genuflect and he looks down upon them in contempt.
“Do not lay your touch upon me!” he barks as he surveys the three remaining coven members. As his weapon slides into the scabbard at his side so does the curtain slide once more over his angelic features. They call their forgiveness to him in high guttural voices.”I would now have the facts about this wolf and the Van Helsing.”
“Please read the remaining pages on the Achaemenid Empire. One never knows when a pop quiz will fall on you!” he calls over the squeals of chairs over tile. The expected soft groans meet his announcement as he moves across the room to peer down at Gabrielle.
“I'd like a word with you in my office Miss Devon” he states firmly. Her dark head whips up from the struggle to cram her book into her tote and not let a glimmer of gold show. A few whispered comments about her getting her ass chewed make him raise a gold brow at the girls who then scurry off books over their chests.
“I have class” is her reply as she averts those ancient eyes from his.
“I'm well aware of that. In my office Miss Devon” he commands yet again as he walks across the almost empty classroom and tugs on the burnished knob leading into his small office.”Now.”
Gabby stands quickly and marches around his desk with her back ramrod stiff as her small breasts push out the front of her safflower sleeveless tee. The condemned meeting the axeman with bravery is all he can think as she strides past him without a sideways glance. Dominick finds the girl Tina at the door of his room watching him from behind her glasses. Then shes gone with the speed he had known she possessed. Their smell was something they couldn't hide from the wolves no matter the perfume or cologne they used. But he wasn't in the position to kill the chit in his class so he tugs his office door closed and turns to find Gabrielle.
“We need to talk Gabrielle” he begins the conversation. She keeps her tote in front of her he sees. A shield of Templar death to keep him back?
“Theres nothing to say” she sniffs with that touch of regal bearing that makes him want her even more.”You made your feelings very clear last night Professor Kane.”
“Gabrielle” he entreats taking a step closer then stopping as she takes a step back bumping into the filing cabinet in the corner. He reaches up to push his russet tinted hair from his face and to find the words he needed to find.”Last night was a mistake.”
“I know” she replies coldly not looking at him but somewhere over his head.”Now if I can get to Economics?”
“There are certain things we need to air out” he takes another step and she pulls her stare down to glare at him openly, her small hands gripping the denim strap as if to choke the life from it.”When I say a mistake, that may not be the proper termin...”
“No! Mistake IS the proper terminology! A mistake is what happened. I misread things and thought something different than you. My bad. Can I go now please?” she asks back flat against the cold steel cabinet. God its stuffy in here she thinks. Open a damned window and let me jump out! The fall from a ground floor window may hopefully kill me.
“The fault lies with me for what happened. You did nothing....” Dominick attempts to explain and still shelter her feelings.
“Oh yes I did!!” she adds quickly,”I understand you're not attracted to me. Its just one of those mixed-up signal things that happens to people. Its cool! Really.”
“No. No its not 'cool'. When I say last night was a mistake I mean a mistake on my part” another small step closer. Her anxiety is ripe as it cascades from her pores. So was the very essence of her. He works on unbuttoning the top few buttons of his white cotton shirt wishing he had a bloody window to open in this bloody box!”I let my desire for you overrun my knowledge of how I should act. But that aside I am much older than you and as a gentleman I should not have...”
“You desire me?”
He looks up from his buttons to find her dark brown eyes awash with surprise. And much more. Centuries worth of education and study fizzle into vapid space between his ears in an instant as innocence melds with lust and love. All there in those chocolate pools that haunt his dreams and torment his accursed soul. Now was the time. Before he let her ruin her life by loving him.
“I thought I did” he lies.
“Oh.” Oh God please, please, please let me die now.
“I care for you but, not in that manner.” Oh God please let me take up the suffering she feels.
“Oh. Sure. I understand. Duh huh?” she hears herself beginning to blather and for the love of God she can't seem to stop herself.” A Van Helsing and a werewolf! Like that would ever be allowed!”
“Yes” he tries to chuckle but fails and falls back to the door, cowardly bastard that he is. But to stand so close to her and not take her in his arms to kiss away her pain, its overwhelming.”Well, I hope we can still be friends Gabrielle.”
Her stomach knots into a ball as he fumbles behind him for the door. She nods, at least she thinks she nodded. She's not sure of anything right now except the office door opening too damned slowly.”Sure. Friends. Friends is good right?”
“Friends is very good” he feels the cooler air of the classroom pouring into his cramped cave and her eyes dart to the portal.
“Okay!” she smiles feebly up at him now holding her tote over her heart. Now he knows it was a shield but sadly it didn't protect her from him.”Well, I guess I'll see you in class tomorrow then Professor.”
“Yes. Yes class tomorrow Miss Devon” he steps aside to allow her to escape. And she does keeping her head up and her back straight she moves past him, out the door and out of his damned life.
'There is love of course then there is life, its enemy', the line of poetry sears across his mind as the outer door closes masking the sounds of his explosive attack on his office.
Divinity Public Playground
The walk from D.C.C. had done her good Gabrielle tells herself as she stops under a big weepy maple to enjoy the shade. She only thought about tossing herself in front of one bus on the way over so hey the day was just improving by leaps and bounds! Maybe if she were real lucky this meeting would be forgotten by the vampire in the granny-glasses and she could go home and drown her sorrows in an all out eating and crying frenzy. May as well be fat and alone as opposed to... God what a first class jackass I am. She's close.
Gabby turns her head to find the young blond smiling up at her sucking on a milkshake.
“They make hemoglobin flavor now do they?” Gabby inquires tartly. Well she was sorry but life was a bitch and since when did vampires drink milkshakes anyway?
“Ha! You're kinda funny. In a really sarcastic way. Or would that be sardonic?” Tina ponders with the straw between rather thin lips.”Come over here. Lets talk” she moves over to sit on one of the park benches that overlooked a statue of a nymph reveling in the fountain. Gabby drops her bag down then falls beside it. Her alarms are jingling loudly as Tina settles beside her still sucking on the milkshake.
“Its black and white” the vampire states.
“My milkshake. They make the best ones over at that little shop by the music store.” The summer wind moves over them as they watch the nymph getting wet. Tina peeks at the assassin over the top of her glasses.”Malachi told us.”
“About the milkshakes?” Gabrielle inquires wondering if water nymphs were actually sirens. Were there such things as sirens? She should read the journal. She'd have lots of time to read once she was fat and alone. Oh yeah, she was already alone. Good God why did that one dumb wolf loss hurt so bad??
“No!” Tina giggles,”About you. Malachi told us you were the newest.”
This gets her werewolf heavy mind back to the conversation.”Who's Malachi?”
Tina looks about the park and Gabrielle follows suit. Who was she looking for? This Malachi? Nothing out of the ordinary. Kids and moms, people on bikes, a vampire and a monster killer sitting on a bench. Yup, all a normal day here in Maine Gabby thinks sarcastically. Maybe sardonically? Who cared? Wheres the nearest bus?
“The Vanguard” comes on the slight wind that tickles over them.”It travels fast, the news of the newest assassin. It even came to us. The odd ones.”
“So you're telling me that one of the Vanguard blabbed to you suck monkeys that I was a Van Helsing?” Gabby's disbelief is clear on her pretty face. Tina's head bobs up and down as she drinks her eyes always moving it seems.”Sure. Okay. Well thanks” Gabby stands hoisting her bag over her shoulder.
“You don't believe me do you?”
“Nope” Gabby announces as the young womans blue eyes peer up at her with a touch of, was that amusement Gabby wonders.
“I know you're, uhm, 'friends' with Kane. Would you ask him to meet with us? The odd ones?” Tina inquires between pulls on her blue straw.
“Look, firstly I'm not 'friends' with the Professor!” Gabby snipes at the vampire curtly.”Secondly what the hell is an odd vampire? Isn't every vampire odd? I mean drinking blood is a touch out of the norm don't ya think? And thirdly, why would vampires want to come close to a pack of werewolves? I've seen that show and it ain't pretty!”
“Someone is looking for you. Tonight at ten by the old mill. Tell them the Vanguard is not as it seems, remind them of the Eliade incident..”
Then as if she had never been there, she's gone. And she took the milkshake too. Figuring she may as well start on the first part of her journey down Humiliation Boulevard to the Heartbreak Hotel Gabby sets off to the ice cream shop that was open for the summer tourist season. Death by mint chocolate chip sounded good. The Vanguard told the vamps about her! Thats about the stupidest thing she had ever heard! Her dark eyes look up Main street then travel about to check traffic coming down. Her foot begins the step down from the curb when her bells and whistles go off inside her head yet again. She stumbles off the curb then finds a hand on her upper arm steadying her. Brown eyes whip to meet brown eyes and she instantly recognizes these eyes.
Gabrielle stares at the most gorgeous woman she has ever laid eyes on and now knows why Dominick had no interest in her 'that' way. This was his pack-mate. They lived together. Where was a God-damned transit bus when a woman wanted one?!?!?!?
“You know me yes?” the Italian goddess asks keeping her hand over her jet-black satiny hair as it moves about her stunning face in a warm zephyr. I hate this woman deeply Gabby groans internally. Then the Mediterranean goddess smiles brightly as Gabby bobs her head morosely.
She was so pretty Porsche notices and smiles widely. So very much what her brother would choose. Bah! If he had any sense! But no, he tosses his One away for her own good! Stupido!! Good thing he had her to set things to rights!
“Buono! I have something I wish to show you. Come bella dona! What do you look for Gabriella?” Porsche inquires as the girl squints up and down the street.
“Pah! A bus!! I have a car! Come! Let me show you what my fratello paints!”
Feral Female - January 24, 2009 11:12 AM (GMT)
Divinity- Issue #17
The day had been a very long one for Sarah Devon. Her thoughts had flitted from one thing to another at work until she had finally placed a call to the assistant librarian pleading a touch of flu about to set in. From that time on she had been here at home, in the small square of her herb garden. Working the patch of fresh earth soothed her in ways most couldn't understand. It was here, on her knees in her oldest sun-dress and wearing a battered straw hat, here with the hot touch of the sun on her bare shoulders that she would work out her life's problems much like she worked at the weeds, one tug at a time.
Letting herself rest back on her legs she surveys the yard bending this way then that to loosen the muscles in her back. This yard had seen many things since she had come to Maine all those years ago. Alone, a widow witchling with a suckling babe at her breast. Goddess had she been scared Sarah recalls pushing at her glasses that had slipped in the sheen of perspiration on her nose.
Gideon had set them off rather well monetarily, his family's wealth paying for the humble house fully. But money aside she had lived for many years in fear. Fear of the Church coming in the night for the newest Van Helsing. Fear of her family never coming to see Gabrielle or herself. Fear of being alone. Sarah catches the quick turn of a bluebirds feather tumbling down from the thick spruce in the corner.
Her family hadn't come of course. Their shame at her marriage rivaling the Church's apparently. Then there was the fear of the wolves. That had kept her nerves frayed for years. For she knew they were here, along with others who moved loosely in society. But after time and devotions to the warm soil and the clear winds her fears had lessened. Then it seemed they had abated completely as Gabby grew and moved along year after year in school.
Now they were all back. Each and every one of those long buried horrors had crashed into the serenity of her life and had made themselves at home. Her glasses glide down once more making her absently snug them back to her face.
She looks down to her garden, the cats-mint and the thyme, the flowering yellow trout lilies tall along the back and the low growing bloodroot. Feverfew and colic root. All used in the art of healing she had began her training in back before Gideon had carried her heart and soul away. Pulling in the warm air with a sigh she sets back to the weeds, and her worries.
Pinching the clump of dandelion firmly she tugs, setting the plant aside for use in a tonic for constipation. When had this begun with Gabby and the wolf? Why hadn't she seen anything in her daughters behavior that screamed the girl were infatuated? What kind of mother missed those signs? Another clump of earth, another dandelion laid atop the ever-growing pile. Was she right to condemn Gabrielle for her feelings when she herself, a Wiccan born and raised, had fallen for a man sworn to strike down all who the Church deemed unholy?
“Wiccan” she jerks in fright at the calm voice behind her. “I wish to speak with you.”
“Your squire is inside watching ' I Love Lucy'. Take him and get back to the Vatican, you've brought enough trouble to my family Vanguard” she states firmly while keeping her hands weeding.”And I have a name.”
“As do I” Joshua comments smoothly walking about the well-tended garden to stand beside her. The sheathe containing his weapon barely touching her shoulder until she removes her skin from its contact.”I wish for you, Sarah, to tell me what Gideon confessed to you before the night of the Eliade uprising.”
She lifts her head then to peer up at the angel for his tone seemed lacking in its usual condemnation. Her hand goes to keep the hat on her soft gold hair as a hot wind gusts past them.
“Why?” she asks finding his gaze now on the garden as opposed to the tire-swing dangling from the tree.”Why do you care now?” she adds shocked when the man drops to his knees beside her to tug a small violet from the rich lome.
“My wife would make a tonic from wild violet to ease my daughters throat” he whispers feeling the delicate purple blossom tenderly. Sarah had never known the man had been a father, a husband. She had never given thought to the Vanguard aside from keeping herself and her daughter from them.”You remind me much of Margarete. She too was fair with flaxen hair, as was Meghan.”
“I never knew” falls from her as she kneels next to the Vanguard beside the wild violet and the cats mint.”You had a family?”
He nods slowly very intent on the flower petals between his fingers for a moment longer, then his bright green eyes come from the blossom to her dirt-smeared face.
“You inquire why now Sarah and I find that there is much I cannot tell you, but I ask for that which you keep close to your heart to help Gabrielle.” At that he sees her soft blue eyes intensify behind her spectacles. “And perhaps right the wrong that befell you so long ago.”
“Is Gabrielle in trouble?” she inquires locked into place as his heavenly hand rises to skim her cheek. She recoils instantly since she knew all to well what the touch of a Vanguard could do, how they could read a persons minds. When the small flower is placed behind her ear she feels almost faint with relief and shock.
“I fear so” is his reply to the witch.” I do not wish to lose another I look upon as daughter Sarah. I fear for her and the others who may become embroiled.”
She comes to her bare feet with more speed than she had intended but her cheek still tingled from the brush of his knuckles.
“Do you drink lemonade, Joshua?”
He rises then to look down at the witch with fine earth-dust smeared over her nose letting his head incline a silent yes.
“Is he here?” Gabby asks darting her glance about the woods that run deep about Dominick's home.
“Who?” Porsche calls over her olive shoulder as she darts to the front porch.
“The Professor. And the other guy who glares at me all the time.”
A light laugh comes from the woman on the porch. Light and airy, soft and feminine. Why the hell am I here Gabrielle wonders to herself. I know, I'm a masochist. That must be it. The Marchioness Gabriella de Sade! What other possible reason do I have to have allowed this woman of epic gorgeousness to tug me into her Mercedes and drive me back here?!
“Gabriella!” she snaps to quickly at the pleasant call.” Neither man is here, come inside. You have nothing to fear here” and with that the Goddess streaks into the house.
“Oh sure” the assassin grumbles plodding around the neat flowerbeds,” Nothing to fear except abject mortification and a werewolf that hates me.”
“No one hates you here Gabriella!” Porsche's voice drifts through the open window a moment before she appears in the open front door.”You really are a pokey one no?!”
Her reply about speed of wolves compared to Van Helsings is lost as the woman streaks down the steps, takes her hand and hurries her along. Gabby trips up the wooden steps trying to keep up. The werewolf giggles happily in front of her keeping a firm grip on her hand. Gabrielle smiles weakly at Porsche when they enter the living room and she finds herself free once more.
“Lucien has made some fresh fruit salad. Would you care for some?”
“Oh, uhm, I'm not really hungry.” A loud rumble from her stomach echoes across the open room.
“If you wish to be a hunter of monsters you should eat better no? I could have heard that gigantic noise from the next county!” her deep brown eyes dance merrily as she heads into the kitchen.
“Damn traitorous gut!” Gabby hisses down at her flat belly as she makes her way tenderly through the room. Nothing had changed much since she was here the night Tomato-Boy had tried to kill her. Before she can clear the sofa the ebony-haired beauty is back with two full bowls of fruit.
“Sit” Porsche motions with her head and Gabby wonders what kind of shampoo Goddess-She wolves used. Obviously nit Suave since her thick wild hair didn't look like that! The reflection was almost blinding. She should have opted for the bus or the ice cream she thinks letting herself sit on the edge of the long couch. Less painful than trying to be polite with his lover. Maybe she could choke on a plump strawberry!”We talk some” Porsche drapes herself onto the couch and plucks a chunk of melon out of the soft green bowl with her fingers.”Do you like the heat?”
“Its okay” Gabby mumbles around a wedge of orange.
“I love the heat! The winters make me long for home.”
“Wheres that? Oh shit! Sorry!” Gabby bends to feel about for the red cherry that rolled from her spoon to the cushion.
“Florence. There, beside your leg” she points with her empty spoon.”I was raised there until my family decided to come to America. My papa, he was always with his head in the clouds. Big dreams!” Gabby watches her speak, intrigued by the way she waves her hands about to emphasize her words.” So after much fighting Mama and I , we come to America with Papa. To look for gold yes?”
“Gold?” Gabby sputters then hurries to chew and swallow the sweet bite of honeydew in her mouth.
“Si” Porsche nods her head.”We come to New York on a boat. That was I think 1854. I remember I was fourteen then and the people here, they had trouble with us. Our names and our lack of English. This one big fat man he made fun of me, making rhyming words from Porsche Giordano, my name you know?”
Gabby nods, no she didn't know her name. But now she did. It was as beautiful as the woman herself. Wheres a damn strawberry?!“But Dom, I mean the Professor, hes British. How did you ever meet him?” Gabby inquires moving back to place her spine to the sofas arm and cross her legs Indian style. Despite herself she was drawn in by Porsche's vitality and warmth. She digs looking for a big, fat berry in the bowl balanced on her leg.
A smile of deep love lifts the red full lips then.”Ahh, Dominick. You can call him that Gabriella. I met Dominick and Lucien in San Francisco two years from when we get to New York. My parents, Mama she dies before we ever see California. And Papa, he was killed in a bar fight not two days after we get into San Francisco. I went to work at the bar as a prostituta.”
Gabby lifts her gaze from her death berry search to find Porsche nibbling on a slice of banana.”I'm sorry” Gabby whispers feeling horrid suddenly. A fast wave of Porsche`s spoon makes Gabby blink.
“Sorry? No need for sorrow. I had no choice, I had to eat and I was not educated. It was there at the bar one day that Dominick and Lucien come in. You know how bello Dominick is? Handsome yes?”
Gabby nods absently then groans at the womans wide smile.
“So I offer myself to him. It would be nice I think, to lay under a man made for love, made to please a woman with his looks and body no? But he turns me away. It was not very nice, and I slapped him for such a thing! But he did not hit me back as most the men would have. He simply left, Lucien at his side. I spit at his back and called him maiale, pig!” Porsche titters remembering the insult.”Dominick is a man with much patience and compassion. It was weeks later when I was with the miner man that I knew the compassion in my fratello`s heart. Fratello means brother.”
“Oh” Gabby mouths almost losing another cherry as her jaw flaps open. Brother. Did that mean......
“The miner man, he was big in the area. He offered me lots of gold to come to his house, to be his mistress. I was very excited you understand? How much better to lay with one man as opposed to many! He was not bello like our Dominick, but he was not hideous. He was clean and seemed kind to me when he would come to me at the bar. But Gabriella this man was not what I think!” her dark features morph into anger pure and vivid and Gabby draws back a hair.”He was a man deep with dark things inside. He took me that first night, badly with much pain. He made me do things that even I, a whore, was ashamed of. When I would beg for him to stop, he would hit me. Then when it was over, when he was done using me in such bad ways he beat me.”
“I'm so sorry” Gabby chokes out, her dark lashes damp witnessing this terrible event in the young womans eyes.
“Thank you. I see this makes you sad but I want you to see, to feel what Dominick is si?” Porsche reaches out to pat the shaking hand that holds the spoon on Gabby's knee.” This miner man, he beat me until I was no longer thinking. I was near to death from his blows. I of course remember none of this, but Lucien and Dominick they tell me when I come to. The miner, he sees what he has done and he worries. His money is gone if the polizia find me dead. Even a whore cannot be killed so. So he takes me out of his house wrapped in a blanket, he carries me to the water, the sea and dumps me in.”
“No!” another whispered gasp from the assassin as a warm breeze lifts the sheers on the open windows.
“Oh yes! I think it was God perhaps that had my two brothers out that night. If they were hunting or not I cannot say, but fish was deep there by the sea” she digs in her bowl for the last few cubes of melon and watermelon.”When they see this, they both go into the water and look for me. Dominick he finds me and carries me to the sand, but I am just stopped breathing. Lucien tells of the pain of my brothers decision as he kneels over me. And still he carries the guilt with him.”
“He bit you didn't he?” Gabby asks softly peeking down quickly to find a large ripe strawberry with her spoon. Porsche nods as she chews her last bite of salad.
“Yes. He bit me and I do not think it was a bad thing! He saved my life in so many ways that night. From that time on I am with them. Dominick he insists it is his duty to care for me as he is the one who made me wolf si? He taught me how to read and write, how to speak and how to love. How to see a man can be good in here” she pats over her left breast,” He owes me nothing. I am happy to be alive.”
“Wow” Gabby says after chewing that last berry.
“So you know how things are for me and Dominick now” Porsche stands so quickly Gabby blinks again.”Come bella I wish to have you see how things are for you and Dominick.”
Shes tugged to her sneakers gently yet firmly. Her thoughts are whipping about inside her head as she fumbles along behind the woman still chattering as they climb the stairs.
“You see all these? The paintings? Dominick paints them. He is a soul dead inside, until he meets you Gabriella. Look at the work, see what he puts to the canvas? Still life. Cold things, buildings and ships. No fire in his brush, until you!”
Gabby finds her eyes moving over the artwork as they climb then move down the silent hall to his studio. She had been up here at night before, hadn't seen the talent the man had. But Porsche was right, the art was cold, sterile. Lacking warmth and light.
“Now see what he paints!” Porsche smiles at Gabby as she pulls her happily into the room with many windows. Sunlight falls through the panes in wondrous ways Gabby notices. Her hand now free she slips them both into the pockets of her shorts while Porsche dances to the easel that sits at the proper angle for the sun.
“See what fire he paints with now!” she states whipping the tarp from the portrait with a flourish.”He paints his other, his one. He paints with the touch of a man when his fingers are on the flesh of the woman he loves.”
Gabrielle peers at herself speechless then with a few unsteady steps finds herself at the canvas, touching the swirling brush-strokes in the dried paint. Was she really this alluring? Did her eyes contain such wisdom? Were her cheeks so rose hued and her lips so full? She traces the sensuous fall of her chestnut hair over the paintings glowing shoulder with a reverent touch. Did he find her so desirable?
“Does he really see me this way?” Gabby asks Porsche with a soft whisper as their eyes meet.
“Ask him yourself bella dona.”
She didn't need to turn or pull her fingertips away from the swell of her painted breasts to know he was here. It wasn't any 'gift' or crawling chills up her spine, no. It was the way her body flared to flame at the mere sound of his voice.
“God dammit Porsche!!” his deep growl fills the studio.
Feral Female - January 31, 2009 12:53 PM (GMT)
“Ciao!” Porsche chirps merrily as she wafts past the heaving were-male, her raven tresses bouncing in time with her skipping step.
“Porsche” rumbles from Dominick as she sails past while tossing the paint-splattered tarp at his gold and russet head. Gabby sees the muscles constrict across his girthy chest. With a quick shake of her lust-clouded head Gabrielle draws his seething red-tinged eyes from the trim back of the she-wolf.
“Don't take it out on her!” Gabby interjects planting her feet beside the easel as her proud chin juts up a scootch.”I'd say you have some explaining to do Professor!”
Huffing deep breaths fill the studio as he works to pull the warring emotions back under control. This situation was a veritable powder keg and all it would take would be a few more inhalations of her to light the match.
“She had no right to invade my privacy like this! None!!!” he snarls over at the Van Helsing. The tarp whips outward to cover the portrait, as if by him hiding his work it would erase it from her mind. He should be so damned lucky he sniffs, then curses himself for breathing Gabrielle in.
“She was only trying to help. What I need to know Van Gogh is why7 Why did you paint that picture?”
“I'm an artist” Dominick tells her curtly crossing the room in agitated steps. “I paint things.”
Dark eyes move to the ceiling at that tart comment.”I don't buy that for a second Professor. I've seen your other work” his scowl doesn't faze her nearly as much as the way his shoulder-length hair shrouds his ice blue eyes does. Her fingers itch to stroke it from his brow, to look into his soul and try to ferret out the truth of what was between them. Instead she balls her hands into fists.”This one's different.”
“Your features intrigued me” he tells her. That was not a lie he reasons planted by the open windows willing her scent to leave him alone. She was a cascade of aromas...worry, confusion and lust. God but the lust was making his body react in ways most unbecoming a man of his age and tenure. How could she still desire him after he had put her down not twelve hours ago? And most infuriating he knows is that just under his cool facade of indifference he's turgid at the knowledge that she does.
“My features intrigued you? Thats it? Damn it Dominick!”, he flicks her a fast glance at his name then resumes his study of the oak leaves waving at him.”Ooooo you're so annoying! What the hell kind of sick game are you playing with me!” Gabby shouts storming over to yank on his thick forearm.”Look at me when I'm talking to you!” He does. She wishes he hadn't.
“You are, as par the course for you, making a mountain out of a molehill Miss Devon. Its a painting, nothing more. No different than that still life of the fruit I had for breakfast a few weeks past” he informs her haughtily, cranking out his most proper accent and scholarly tone.
“So I'm a damn bowl of grapes?” she barks up at him, her perfectly wonderful face filled with outrage he sees as he crosses his arms over his sweaty soft gray tee.
“Precisely.” And he was a starving man.
The summer breeze tickles over them as she looks up at him blankly for a scant moment. He sucks in a startled breath when her hands explode from her sides to shove him back a step.
“I hate this! I hate you! And I hate this!!” Gabby rails at him as he finds his footing.
“You stated you hate 'this' twice. But I find I'm lost as to what 'this' you are referring to.”
Her deep brown eyes snap with rage, her small breasts rise and fall rapidly, he literally begins to salivate at the heady mixture of her broiling emotions and the sight of her alive and wild like this.
“This!” she whirls about sending the wave of chestnut spinning about her shoulders, filling the small space with her floral scent. If he pounced on her now, would she lay down under him here? Would her anger soar into the want of him if he fell on her like the male does the female? He finds himself padding a step closer to her small back, imagining the feel of her pressed tightly to him, his fangs gingerly holding her neck as he took what he wanted, what she wanted. He shudders when the canines begin to slip downward at the image playing in his mind. Her taut legs now carry her away from him, he curses and thanks God on the same breath for he had been this close to leaping on her.
“You drive me crazy!!” she yells over her shoulder as her tiny feet speed her from the studio.”CRAZY!!!!” she adds stomping her way down the hall to the steps.”Dumb stupid werewolf! Seems someone as old as you would know what the hell 'This' means!!! And yes I said hell! Hell! Hell! Hell!! There!! Hell again!!”
He remains dumbstruck at the windows listening to her tirade as she finds the steps then proceeds to slam each foot down with attitude while still muttering to herself.
“Gabriella! Where are you going infuriato?” he hears Porsche inquire from downstairs and he moves to the door in a flash. In the portal he stops flinging out his hands to grip the soft white frame on either side of his enormous body.
“Let her go old man” he whispers to himself. Let her go off in a fury as Porsche had said.
“I'm going to get my God-damn daggers and I'm going to start slicing werewolf parts off until that hard-headed, uptight, stodgy Brit talks to me honestly! And yes I said God-damn!!”
Oh bloody hell thats not good. Not that he was worried overly much, but a woman in an haze of red could hack off something he may need at a later date. His speed rockets him down the hall and over the railing, visions of being neutered spurring him past the scowling she-wolf and out the screen door. He glances down to see Lucien padding to the three front steps as the door of Porsche's car slams shut.
“Stupid males! They should all be crammed into a rocket and blasted to the moon!” she mumbles tossing her tote back over her shoulder as she plods through the flowerbed with a Templar blade in each hand. She crushes down a happy bunch of orange and yellow marigolds with her sneaker then mutters a fast apology to the flowers.”Yeah I killed your flowers Professor! Marigolds stink! Not unlike some big, dumb dog man!”
“I thought I smelled the stench of the assassin” Lucien mutters in a low grumbling snarl as she storms back to the porch. Gabby whips a gold blade up with speed and skill that Dom decides must be in-born. The werewolf leaps back, the smell of the holy dagger strong under his extra-sensitive nose, his cloudy eyes on the blade rushing past.
“And you!” she spits out at the elder male,”You make one more gibe about me stinking and I will cut your damned nose off and give it to my mother for a fine salve!!” her rabid eyes race up the steps to find HIM watching her with, was that a raised brow? Did he think she was kidding?? Her grip tightens instinctively as she steps up one stair bringing her head even with his abdomen.
“And you!” she waves the dagger at him and he falters back from the flash of gold that came perilously close to his groin.”I'm done playing this game with you!!” Gabrielle jabs at him, her thick hair covering her face as she pants raggedly.”One day you want to kiss me, one day you don't! One day I kiss you and you suck my tonsils nearly out, then the next minute you throw me to the floor like a stale crumpet!! Then, then” she draws a deep breath keeping both towering males at bay with knives glinting in the dusky sun,”Then you say you don't want me that way but lets be friends! So, so then I come here and I see you painted that picture and you call me a God-damn bowl of grapes!!! I wish you would make up your mind because you are so screwed up you don't even know what you're doing to me here!!!”
With a final poke at the huge blond she whirls about, stumbles off the bottom step, flings another glare at Lucien then walks off into the woods that surround the home with her head high and her mouth still running.
Dominick finds his brothers white eyes on him as the sound of applause comes up behind him along with Porsche's sultry scent.
“Bravo!” she calls out with so much acid Dom wonders why the floor boards weren't smoking from the caustic drips.”Ahhh Dominick what a way you have with women no? So well handled that was!!” she steps up beside him, still clapping as his lip rises slightly.”Stupido!” she shouts at him.”That girl, she's mad about you! And you are so in love with her, but yet when I give you the perfect opportunity to tell her, what do you do?! You call her fruit!! FRUIT? And this is a learned man!? Pah!!” she spits at him with fire in her brown eyes, then stomps into their home slamming the screen door so hard it totters off its hinges then crashes to the porch.”And Gabriella is heading wrong way home asino!!”
“She called you a jackass.”
“Yes Lucien I do speak Italian rather well!” Dominick growls down at the man who regards him openly. His burly hand comes up to push his sunny hair from his face as he chuffs out a weary grunt.
“I can go get the Van Helsing” Lucien comments roughly keeping his salt and pepper colored head turned at a slight angle as he awaits the reply.
“You go nowhere near her!” is the alpha's thunderous responce. Lucien nods but once as he hears the mans clothes being stripped from his body.”Tell me this my brother before you change, do you love the Van Helsing? Is she actually your one?”
He hears the man stop beside him as he stares blindly ahead then the abrupt sound of four heavy paws thudding to the cooling grass. Lucien draws in a thick breath of humid air as Dominick trots into the tree-line. And so he had his answer he knows now, as he had surmised earlier. What this twist of fate would bring upon them he knew not but nothing good ever came to their kind from the Church.
He finds her easily in the rush of the cool pine-scented wood. Even without his canines keen smelling ability her seemingly never-ending litany would bring a deaf man to her heels. That she still carries on would make him smile if he weren't in form. He shakes his head in exasperation as he pads silently up behind her, she had much to learn. But then again her 'gift' not warning her about him should be a good thing correct? It meant she felt at ease around him, she trusted him. And he had treated her badly he knows this. Allowing her into his life would also be a mistake for her. Keep her close, let her go, follow, not. His pointed ears pick up the softest sounds from the titmouse scurrying across the elms bark to the sudden 'Woosh' of air her tasseled knife makes as it skims over his snout.
“I heard you coming” Gabrielle hisses to the gold wolf that dropped just in time to keep his cold, wet nose where it belonged.”Go home! Go! Shoo!!” she shouts at him as she turns back to her walk. Only three steps are taken when she stops and he hears her huge breath of displeasure. Again she whirls, he drops instinctively then raises the clump of whiskers over his left eye as she hurls a stick behind them.
Oh if he were human right now he would give her such an upbraiding for her biased taunts! As it were he was not so when she turns yet again to stomp off in the wrong direction he dashes up and latches onto her denim tote. This jars her back a step as he begins to pull backwards.
“Stop it!! Stop!! Let go!!” Gabby snarls jerking on the tote with her shoulder since her hands were full of Templar weaponry. She wonders if werewolves can snicker because that noise sure sounded like one. He tugs insistently and she leans forward while her sneakers dig into the loose litter of the woodlands. His jaws tighten on her texts inside as he pedals to the rear, claws digging into the dirt for purchase as the woman grunts out in her attempts to move forward.
“Let-go!” she grinds out after a failed lurch ahead. She blows her hair from her face then curses as he begins to drag her backwards despite all her weight and strength. Another odd sound from the wolf behind her, she couldn't make out what since she was panting so hard to win the winless battle of wills. Its then that she gets pulled unceremoniously off her feet with a disturbed sounding growl to land harshly on her rear.
And yet he hangs onto her tote. Even when she screams out and slams her fathers blades down in complete exasperation he keeps her bag firmly in his bone-crushing jowls.
“WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME!?!?!?” she cries out then slumps forward in defeat.”What? Why are you doing this? Please, please just leave me alone.”
She folds her arms over her knees as her head drops over her forearms. Somewhere in that mass of softly curling chestnut she worked at catching her breath. The tote hits the ground softly.
“Thank you” she mutters buried in hair.”Just go away. You won't even talk to me obviously since you're here in fur.” She just really wanted to go home. He made her so wild and thoughtless and she hated it. Her world was upside-down and inside-out and it was all due to this man wolf! If she had only been paying more attention that night by the lake she would have sped up and ran him over but good! Then backed up and run him over again just for the fruit crack!
Her hair fans out suddenly with a soft chuff from him. No she thinks as his nose begins to ferret about in her hair, no I am not looking at you because I'll find those sky-blue eyes and I'll just want to kiss you again. Another push, gentle as a lap-dog as he snuffles at her ear. She jerks her shoulder up to block him, firm in her resolution. Its the sound he makes beside her left ear, a soft short whine like a puppy lost and alone first taken from its mother. She sighs then turns her head slightly just enough to peek at him through the mess of tendrils.
“Puppy noises aren't fair.”
Clear arctic eyes find her then under the crazy tangle and his snout slips in under her cheek.
“Either is that” she announces softly letting him move in closer with his massive head, pushing at her until she winds her arms around his muscled neck. “You cheat you know that?”
The were-male nods his head over her shoulder. Her fingers begin to move over his shoulders, long tender caresses over course fur. She slips closer to the canine so she could rub her cheek against the soft pelt that ran along his neck.
“Did you come here all wolfed out so you didn't have to talk?” she inquires moving her hand down his flank, marveling at the raw power the contracting muscles under the fur held.
“Are you as confused as I am?” small palms now moving over his back with inquisitive pressure. The imposing lupine shudders beneath her touch.
“<Sigh> Do you really think of me as grapes?”
When his blocky head moves left to right so does hers. Gabrielle squeezes his corded neck tighter as she runs her fingers back up to his neck. A low moan comes from the werewolf as he sits on his bottom, plumed tail curled around himself with his stunning eyes closed. He didn't know if her hands moving so sensuously on him were more enticing when he was in form or not. He truthfully didn't care either as long as she were holding him close. Her head pulls back from his neck then as she runs her fingers slowly higher to touch the velvet of his ears. When he shivers and cracks his shining eyes open her expression propels him down a spiral that he knows he will never want to climb from. She found this much hated form acceptable. The bond was sealed.
“I'd like you to kiss me” she whispers rubbing her hands down his muzzle now, lost in the moment with eyes simmering and hooded. His tongue laves over her face. Her nose wrinkles as her soft cheek glistens with drool.”Oh yeah, thats nice. Real romantic Kane!” she frowns as she wipes her cheek dry. He stands then and makes a full circle before laying down beside her and dropping his head onto her knees. She peers into his eyes as he looks into her heart.
“This is seriously demented you do know that right Professor?” Gabby asks of him as she slips off her legs to sit beside his long, thick body. He nods then settles his snout across her folded legs. She reaches up to tuck her hair behind her ears as they rest in silence for a spell.
“My mother will curse us both.”
His grunt makes her smile a small bit as she resumes running her hand down his back and sides.
“Oh yeah, well I guess she could cook up a different curse. I had thought one for impotency sounded like her” she states smirking at the lupines growl of displeasure. The sun dips behind the mountains in its never-ending game of tag with the moon.
“Its getting dark. Oh hell! Shoot! Well, hell. The vampires want to....” she draws back as he comes to his feet with a snapping snarl to glare at her.”Oh take a heartworm tablet would you!” Ha! That got his whiskers to rise Gabby congratulates herself inwardly.”Listen okay? I talked to one after school and.....”
This snarl reverberates around them making the chick-a-dees and the wrens jostle about on their thin sleeping roosts in worry.
“Stop that or I swear I'll get a rolled up newspaper!” she shakes a finger at his quivering snout. Again with the wolf snort she scowls.”They want to meet with you. Prof, they say a Vanguard named Malachi told them about me. I really don't believe a word of it of course. I mean why would a Vanguard even hang around with vampires? Well these ones call themselves the 'Odd Ones' whatever that means. She did drink a milkshake and, hey! HEY!!!”
His head rustles into her back, shoving her forward none too tenderly.
“Would you stop pushing me around!? I'm getting really fed up with, OKAY!!! I'm up! Sheesh!” she yells over her shoulder as she fumbles to her feet. He paws at the handles of the blessed knives with her tote clamped in his mouth.”So I take it we're going home?” she inquires bending to gather up her blades. Gabby lifts her bag from him giving him an evil eye at the damp slobber patch on the denim, then he's moving off into the trees.
“No thats okay, don't wait for me!” she snipes trying to follow him as she also attempts to cram her knives into her tote.”It's dog obedience class for you chum!”
The feral growl just ahead of her makes her congratulate herself yet again. Oh her life was just WAY too seriously demented anymore she acknowledges as the wolves den now fell into view. 'So what did you do over the weekend Gabrielle? 'Oh you know, went to a midnight meeting with suck-monkeys and hell-hounds. Of course theres this one thats ever SO dreamy!! He's got this tail! And these ears! Oh and the way he uses his whiskers!'
Yeah, SO seriously demented.
Feral Female - February 7, 2009 11:09 AM (GMT)
Divinity-Issue # 19
Sarah lets the soft leather cover drop closed as she lifts her head to peer at the Vanguard seated so rigidly across from her. His startlingly green eyes are locked on the salt and pepper shakers that sat off to the side of him, next to a nicked up napkin holder. Her hand gently falls on the journal of the Van Helsing`s, her entire body dull with shock.
“I never knew” she whispers finally. It had taken her a goodly time to read the entire tome, and now so many things were beginning to fall into place for her like her favorite jigsaw puzzle.”I'm sorry for...”
Joshua forces his thoughts back to the woman. His squire saying nothing as the boy chews wordlessly, far too engrossed in the past and knowing his place was not to speak out of turn.”You have nothing to apologize for. It was as it was” the angel states.
“But this account” her slim finger taps the journal lightly,” This tells only up to the night we lost Gideon. What happened during the attempted uprising? He had sent you for assistance before the battle broke out. Why didn't you return?” she asks forcefully. He looks back at her. She met his look with determination through her small blue-framed glasses.
“May I stay my liege?” Daniel inquires after draining his fourth glass of soy milk. The white-head nods and the lad begins to nibble on another cookie from it`s plastic container.
“As you know we, the Vanguard, are mere servants of the Church” he informs her getting a small nod as her reply. She reaches for a cup of steaming coffee as he allows the night to come back in a surge of memories.”There had been whisperings for months, years actually, from the demon races...”
Her sniff at the term he uses settles on him oddly.
“About their place in the world. Cristofer Eliade being the most vocal. He has sat as Supreme Alpha for centuries, as long as I have been liaison to the Van Helsings so have I know Cristofer.”
“The man who killed Gideon” she whispers to herself more so than for any point to be added to his re-counting.
“Yes. The evening of the uprising found me at Gideon's side, planning out our strategy for even with the Vanguard behind us, as we both assumed they would be, we would be greatly outnumbered. The Eliade clan alone numbers well into the thousands” he lifts his almost full of glass of lemonade to his lips. The curtains shuffle on the some-what cooler night wind as he drinks.
“With our plans laid out I left to return to the Vatican, to seek out my brethren and to present my case to the priests” he finds the hilt of his sword in his hand. Shaken by the surge of emotion he lays his palm to his thick thigh and continues, Sarah's soft sips and Daniel's chewing the only sounds in the home.”I was met with great resistance in the priests chambers. The men of arms, my fellow Vanguards waited outside, ready and sanctified to descend down and quell the blood-lust that moved through the ranks of the lesser beings...”
Another soft sound from the Wiccan.
“My apologies Witch” he whispers gruffly and finds the slight inclination of her head humorous for some odd reason.”The task was not as easy as I had thought it would be. And before this day I had pondered why. Why would the high counsel not wish to send down the men who had taken into them the blood? I found myself hours deep into my arguments, and they would not be swayed.'Let the demons kill themselves' they told me. 'The inner squabbling of the unholy ones are not our concern Brother'. I truly stood baffled Witch” he meets her gaze solidly.
“I can see why you would be. Gideon wrote of his faith in you, and in the others in service to your church.”
“His faith was misplaced” Joshua mutters softly,”For when the clans of the others rose up, he stood very much alone. For that I have been most repentant. His death, his blood still stains my hands.”
Moments tap out before his green eyes come back to them at the table.”Going against the orders of the priests I returned to the battle, but the die had been cast. As I re-materialized to the Western grove I found Gideon already gravely injured. And I found the wolves that you harbored at his side. I stood shocked as the fighting bloomed about me. My sword quaked in my grip as I witnessed the fight between wolves raging over your husband. Cristofer and Dominick. The gold wolf is rare, so his form is known to all. As is Cristofer`s ivory pelt.”
“So this wolf Dominick fought at Gideon's side? Fought to save him?”
Joshua sees the womans hands tremble as the mug of coffee shudders in her pale grip.
“He did. Even when Gideon had lashed out at them as they came from behind, wounding the elder male Lucien, they tried to protect the human in their midst. If we had been there,” he pauses,”If I had been there perhaps the fates of those involved would have been different. Gideon would have come home, seen his daughter grow.”
“All these years I hated an entire race....” Sarah mouths barely heard by the two at her cluttered table. She sets her mug down before she drops it on the lap of her sun-dress.
“It is an easy thing to hate” the Vanguard announces as his squire stares at him in awe.”There lies in all of us good and bad. Perhaps I too have been less than forgiving, Witch” he meets her look, the Wiccan who still wears dirt on her nose and a drooping violet behind her ear.
“So what now? You say you only today saw what lies at the core of Gabrielle's troubles” Sarah keeps her fingers wrapped about her mug, then watches him rise quickly, the golden sword striking the chair as he comes to his feet.
“I ask that my squire be allowed to remain here, with you. He is well trained and stalwart and will protect you justly.”
Daniels thin chest puffs out as his face blushes slightly under the score of freckles.
“Of course” she answers dropping her bare feet to the cool linoleum as she stands.”But you haven't told me whats after my daughter, or where you're going. I have a right to know! This is MY daughters life we're discussing!”
“I must go spend time with my Lord” he tells her casting a fast glance to the young man seated at the table.”I entrust you with the Lady's life should evil descend upon this home.”
Sarah sputters as the Vanguard disappears from her kitchen in a soft phase of light.
Dominick lets the soft leather cover drop closed, his eyes lifting as Porsche's call moves up the stairs. He was not one generally prone to working out his thoughts with pen and paper. The brush and the oils were his release. But his journal had called to him tonight, and as he sat writing her voice would enter his mind. Gabrielle. Battle as he did over his feelings for her she was now more a part of him than his own beating heart was. He rises from the office chair as her laughter lilts up, something she and Porsche had whispered about him no doubt. The women had grown close quickly he sensed. It was hard not to be drawn into his pack-mates spell. It was impossible for him not to be drawn into Gabrielle's.
Lucien had opted to retire to his room, to brew and simmer Dominick could feel. His hatred of the Van Helsings was being sorely tested now, and the man would have to learn that sometimes enemies most hated could turn into friends most revered. Or more he adds reaching back to tie a thin strip of rawhide around his golden hair. In his case, so very much more. The meeting loomed now and as he makes his way down the second story hall he has worked out many things in his small time of seclusion. He would meet with Them, the ones he knew lived much as his pack did. Then after the meeting he would take Gabrielle aside and they would talk. Openly, honestly and God willing she would forgive him for his love.
“Fratello! Come!! Scribble later! They wait!”
He passes Lucien's closed door as he makes the swing about the railing for the steps. His brother appears in the portal, white eyes moving about until his ears and nose find what he seeks.
“Do you join us Lucien?” Dom inquires, one large hand resting on the finely polished banister.
“You ask me again to fight beside a Van Helsing my brother. Even knowing the feelings I have for them, for this?” he rolls his shoulder and grimaces.
“I do. But I do not command you too as is my right as Alpha.”
Lucien says nothing while Dominick hears the soft steps of the women coming to the bottom of the steps. Curious things women are he thinks keeping the were-male in his sights.
“Then I shall fight at your side” Lucien finally replies tersely.
“And at hers?”
“And at hers.”
“Are you coming Prof?” Gabby asks tugging his mind softly from the bond that links him with Lucien. Words weren't necessary, they felt what the other felt.
“WE are Miss Van Helsing.”
The doors of the silver Audi closing at spaced intervals echoes about the abandoned sawmill as the four now stand alongside the car.
“We go in ready” Dominick growls out coming around to stand beside Gabby as she cinches her fathers daggers tight to her sides.”I'll remain in human form so communication can be easier with Them. Porsche, Lucien shift, keep tight to Gabrielle at all times. We all know these ones, but at this juncture I trust no one.”
Gabby turns briskly as the two others begin to shuck their clothes off then toss them to the backseat through the open windows. She peeks up at Dominick through the loose hair blowing about her face. Amazingly his crisp blue eyes were on her and not the Italian goddess of beauty peeling every scrap of clothing from her gorgeous body. Maybe he needed his eyes checked Gabby thinks when the wolves pad past. They would act as advance scouts,sweeping the area ahead of her and Dominick.
“Are you ready Assassin?” she hears him ask and she brings her head up to look at him. God above he was beautiful. Her mouth suddenly goes very dry.
“One thing before we go meet the suck monkeys?”
He nods with a brow raising at her request.”Go on” his deep voice prods. She fastens her dark eyes to his mouth, needing to taste it just one time but what if he, what if, damn!
“Good luck!” she blabbers out.
“Uhm, yes. To you as well. Come Miss Devon.”
DOH!! Dumb!! Loser!! Idjit!! Moron!! Imbecile!! Nimrod!! You should have kissed him! What if he didn't want a kiss? He might have! He might have gathered you up in his huge arms and run his tongue over you, and not his doggy-droolish tongue either, but his warm, sexy tongue could even now be lapping at your neck! Gabrielle trips over her feet as her mind drifts. His soft hand to her elbow makes the tongue-on-her-neck scenario flame skyward.
Then her spinal cord comes alive under her flesh. Her vision narrows as her hands find the tasseled grips of her daggers. They were here. She could sense them coming in on four sides. Streaks of speed appearing as if from no-where. She plants her feet and spins the blessed blades outward and away from her. Suddenly the brush of the wolves at her sides, their backs rubbing at the top of her slim hips.
Dominick grumbles low and deep, his pack-mates falling into the same warning growls as their pointed ears flatten to their skulls and the course fur on their powerful backs rise.
Whirls of movement stop as suddenly as they had begun and Gabby now looks out at a coven. Her flesh prickles down her arms as her fingers tighten around Gideon's weapons. Dominick tosses her a rapid look then focuses himself at the group gathered beside the softly rolling Allagash river.
A male steps forward, carefully taking one small step then another Gabby sees. He was slim of build and dark-haired, that was all the slim moon would show her. Her thigh muscles tighten as Dominick pads forward. The two stop within twenty feet of each other, both wound tightly as were the rest. Gabrielle rips her eyes across the others rigidly poised along the babbling stream. Tina's granny glasses reflect the moons weak beams back at the assassin. There were exactly ten of them not counting the male who stands looking up at the towering were-male in the over-grown grass and wild flowers.
“Tell the Van Helsing to drop her weapons” top vamp-boy commands.
“Tell him I will when he spits his fangs out!” Gabby shouts across the field.
“Speak leech” Dominick thunders down at the man who appears torn as to which bears the closer eye, the massive wolf-man or the slim girl with the Templar knives.
“In due time dog!” he spits at the werewolf. Gabby shivers at the cacophony of snarls and hisses that rise up drowning out the calls of the frogs and crickets.
“This is stupid” Tina announces breaking free from a females grasp Gabby sees. Maybe her mother?? The young woman strolls up to stand beside the tense man then cranes her head around the wide blond man to look directly at Gabrielle.”Gabby can we just talk? Like at the park?”
“No!” Dominick explodes down at the vampires.
“Its okay Prof” Gabby announces making her leg muscles relax enough to move. Lucien and Porsche bar her when she steps forward.”Its cool. We need to hear what they have to say” Gabby states and with reluctance slides her daggers back into the sheaths firm to her ribs.
She comes up next to Dominick with her vertebrae crackling out dire warnings, the wolves tight to her side.
“Get filled up on milkshakes?” Gabby queries jerking slightly when the touch of the Alphas hot hand settles to her back.
Tina giggles lightly making the male suck-monkey shoot her a glare.”Hemoglobin flavor right?” she laughs lightly.”We fed prior to coming. On animals, like you guys do. Not all of us are killers who feast on human blood. Kinda like you three don't go out and eat babies anymore.”
“Tell me whats up then” Gabby closes the distance between herself and Tina. She whips her head around to Dominick as he moves with her.”Stay!” she barks and his lip curls.
“There is something wrong in the Vanguard” the male states behind Tina, his wary eyes glued to the daggers.
“Yeah, Malachi” Gabby tosses out flippantly. This name brings a wave of fear from the vampires that makes the wolves dance in place. “Wow, talk about a bad vibe.”
“This Vanguard has plans that are dark ones Gabby” Tina tells her in a tone thats grown softer since his name was mentioned.”What they are we don't know, but it was him that set the others on you. The Crowley coven are his minions, doing as he bids. They serve him well and have for years. Who he serves we can only wonder at.”
Gabby's brows knit up as she works this news over in her mind. Ignoring the long sudden rumble from golden boy behind her she moves up to Tina.
“Are you sure? This still makes no sense. He's an angel for the love of sassafras!”
“We don't know his motives, but we do know his is the darkness that will bring about the second uprising” the young woman tells her. Gabby turns her head when Dominick curses out an oath behind her. His entire wonderfully made body seems to emanate some rich heated anger now Gabby finds.
The darkness of the mill and the river suddenly sears into bright white light. Gabrielle brings her head back around as a screech rips from the coven. She can't see them as her eyes battle with the flash but they streak away in differing directions their screams following behind them. Tossing her hand up to shield her gaze her ears hear the wolves behind her whining. Then the force of a blow to her shoulder sends her to her bottom with a startled grunt.
“I see now that the bloodline of the Van Helsing`s is as deeply tainted as was feared. And so it falls to me to cast the thieves from the temple” Malachi informs her as the tip of his gold sword falls to her left breast. Her ears and eyes register what happens next at the same time.
Faster than her brain can move the moon illuminates a snarling mountain of gold and russet fur, jowls locking down on the Vanguards shoulder and the angel roaring out in agony.
Feral Female - February 14, 2009 11:07 AM (GMT)
Divinity-Issue # 20
Gabrielle's scream is blanketed by the sound of the vicious attack. The Vanguard staggers to his right while sweeping his blade from her thundering chest, the flat edge of the golden sword coming into contact with the immense wolfs heaving side. It glances downward to slice deep into the muscled upper leg of the canine as Malachi begins to drop to one knee under the wolf's weight. Blood sweeps the area when the werewolf drops it hold to yelp loudly, holy metal severing flesh and sinew.
The pack lunges then drops back, thick fear warring with the need to protect their Alpha. The angelic warrior shoves the beast back when its jowls come whipping around, canines the size of a mans finger, saliva slinging off its black curled lips. Snapping wantonly with rabid ruby eyes he trips back, his leg weakened and pumping blood down his golden fur.
Its the wide arc of gold in the weak moonlight that pulls Gabby to her feet and propels her forward. She throws herself outward, crashing painfully to her knees while catching Dominick around his thick neck. As the Vanguards blow careens down she closes her dark eyes and buries her face into his fur knowing they both would die. She holds him tightly as the killing blow descends, the wolf frantically trying to scrabble back to save the woman wound about his throat.
Some distant fleck of humanity keeps his One safe from the jaws that sever and shred, her scent so near, so deeply embedded in his mind he barely notices the second blinding flash as he whirls about raggedly, dragging her with him while offering his flank to the dropping weapon. Her knees rip open as the were-male spins and she cries out to him. Then the crossing of swords echoes through the abandoned mill.
“Stand down Malachi!” Joshua snarls meeting his brothers powerful blow with his own longsword.
“The creature goes now!” Malachi responds through tightly gritted teeth, his thick biceps straining against his brothers equal strength.”He has attacked a Vanguard! Drawn holy blood! I dispatch the bastard now!”
“No!” burning green eyes glare into maddened blue ones, the Templar`s grip strong as he pushes with both arms upward and back. Malachi's blade zipping heavily off the blocking blades end as he falters back a step.”The man struck defending a Van Helsing! A warrior of the church!”
“The filth drew my blood!” Malachi argues heatedly as Lucien and Porshe make tight circles, the blood and anger wringing whines and snarls as Dom attempts to dislodge Gabrielle from him. His blood-lust was high, the desire to kill courses with abandon through his veins. Despite him dancing about while flinging his head left to right her tightly locked arms won`t come loose.
“In defense of a Van Helsing!” Joshua snaps back keeping his blade held in a fighting position, high and ready in front of his strong chest.”I call for the matter to be heard in the tribunal” Joshua states with ragged breaths as he fights to quell the ire that fuels him on.
“You know the laws that dictate such matters my brother!” Malachi replies letting his sword lower as the pain of the beast's bite deep into his neck is akin to hellfire.”If one of the demon races should rise against the Vanguard they are dispatched without chance of retribution! That is the law we live by!”
“I call for the tribunal. We will let the elders decide the fate of the beast” Joshua demands his weapon still not lowered.
“So be it my brother” Malachi nods once in deference. “The creature shall be held in the dungeon until its trial as is canon.”
Joshua agrees with a movement of his close-cropped ivory head. Then and only then does his sword slip into its scabbard.”Fall back!” he instructs the two wolves that prowl the perimeter. Lucien lurches forward with a snarling small step but the angels presence sends him back to pace beside the ebony wolf.
“Release the wolf Van Helsing” Joshua calls to Gabby. She shakes her head violently afraid to release him. They would drag her into the dungeon right with him before she let him go. She fights with the golden wolf as he spins and stumbles about madly. Without warning she's no longer tight to Dominick, but somewhere else. Somewhere dim and dank and her stomach spins in a whirl as Joshua keeps her close to him for a moment.
“NO!!” she chokes out slamming her fists into the soft white of his tunic.”Damn you!!!”
“You do not wish to see the capture of the man Gabrielle” he whispers down to her while catching her wrists neatly.”He will be wild and they will not be gentle.”
She tugs at his hold with fear covering her completely and deeply, but his fingers are steel bands holding her tightly yet without pain.”Let me go! Please! I can help! He'll listen to me!!”
“He will not. He is deep into the lust. I must leave you here to speak to the priests. These are my chambers and you need fear no other Vanguard here” he speaks into her tangled chestnut curls.
“Except one” she states with vehemence. For that he has no answer. His prayers had led him to a fork in the road and even now he stands lost as to which road to take.
“Do not leave my room Gabrielle” he drops her wrists gently as he steps from her. She rubs at her left wrist as she takes in the spartan conditions. A single bed and dark dresser with a stubby candle atop it. That was it. Then she looks up at the man.
“Are they going to kill him?”she asks, her voice a mere whisper in the coolness of the under-ground chamber.
“He has attacked a member of the Vanguard. That will more than likely seal his fate. I will do what I can in his defense. I am sorry Gabrielle” he tells her softly, a pass of sorrow moving rapidly over his handsome face.
He disappears then, and she feels the well of sorrow begin to rise up from her chest. As she places a shaking hand out to find the bedpost the catacombs fill with the sounds of the angels returning with the accused. His roars echo down the smooth corridors, the shouts of men mix with the chilling rattle of chains and the assassin bolts to the thick wooden door.
Porsche collapses to the trunk of the Audi, her bare arms and upper torso ignorant of the chill from the cool metal. Her long black hair spreads over her as she sobs great harrowing calls of despair. Lucien tugs his slacks up then slips down the closed drivers side door, his legs too shaken to keep him upright he squats down and his head slams into the silver door.
“Dear God” he moans willing his ears to stop hearing his sister's wails. The pain in his chest is staggering for the loss of his brother takes his very will to live from him.
“We must go” he hears the woman cough out and he shakes his head, brown and silver hair skirting down to fall over his sightless eyes.
“Go where!?” he growls out, his European accent deepening with his pain and anger.
“To the Eliade`s” she sniffles and he picks up the satin moving over her legs as she steps into her underwear.
“The Eliade`s?! They will do nothing Porsche!” he snarls roughly while she tugs her hair loose from the back of the soft cotton sun-dress.”Or do you forget Dominick and I fought against Cristofer!? Dominick almost killing the Elder to save the Van Helsing!”
“I forget nothing!” she spits down at him with fire bright in her dark brown eyes.”Cristofer is but one Eliade!”
“He reigns Supreme Alpha! His word is law!” Lucien argues back.
“Then we will appeal to the Clan! We must DO something Lucien!! Our brother even now is locked below the Vatican!” she whirls about in frustration as he shakes his head side to side.”They will kill him!!”
He finds her by smell, her anxiety is high on the soft winds.”And what do you think the Clan of Candarhh will do? Even the High Female cannot supersede Cristofer!”
“The clan is strong! We are the huntresses! Even the Alpha males know who holds the real power of the wolves!”she states wildly and proudly. “We will go and speak to Glayvern and we will appeal to the Clan! Come! Get up! We go now while there is still time to save our fratello!”
Malachi appears in his chamber and moves with a faltering step to slip the bolt closed on his door. His vision blurs and he pushes himself to the small wooden stand beside his dresser as he rips at the shoulder plate with shaking hands. The light blue armor piece drops to the stone floor as he pours a bowl of clean water from a hand-pained ceramic pitcher. His lower neck sears with pain.
The hand that now begins to peel the sticky under-tunic away from the jagged bite mark quakes and he falters with trepidation as he reaches up tentatively to feel of the wound. It ran deep where the great wolfs teeth had skipped over his armor and found purchase in his flesh along his collarbone. Twin gouges already hot and swollen meet his fingertips. Another slam of fire and ice pounds through his veins and he closes his eyes as he fights down the fear. He swallows and rends the under-tunic from his body.
Moving on erratic feet he positions himself over the washing bowl and brings the bar of soap to a great lather, his hands thick with strong lye froth he then begins to scrub the heated area roughly, his piercing blue eyes fall to the plain wooden crucifix above the washstand as the soap seeps into the gouges. Watering eyes plead with his Lord and Savior as his soapy hand scrubs harder and harder, and his blood rushes faster and faster.
Her small feet carry her with speed through the dimly lit corridors. Gabby had two ways of doing this she had figured. One was to sneak about in the shadows as she followed the werewolves howls and bellows. The second was to walk past the many Vanguard she would pass with her head high and her heritage her banner. She chose the second.
The catacombs were bleak and bare, nothing of warmth or a personal nature was to be seen. It made her feel badly for the men who lived here. Although they had chosen to be what they were it still seemed a terrible way to live, hidden down here like the Churches rats. She stops and listens, then the desperate howls being again and she hurries onward. Down a small rounded bend of steps she goes, not lifting her eyes when she slinks by two large men on the steps.
The further she moves down the damper the walls seemed, the stones moist in places she sees by the leaping torches places at ten foot intervals. When she drops down yet another short flight of smooth flat-rocked steps she finds what she seeks. A lone Vanguard rests beside the stoutest door she has ever seen. It towers over the tall angel, easily reaching ten feet in height as it barely misses the well-shored dirt ceiling. The angels eyes turn to her as she straightens her shoulders and marches up to him.
“I would like to see the werewolf” she tells him firmly. He simply looks at her.
“I do not think that is wise.”
“Do you know who I am?” she inquires ignoring his sword neatly riding in a brass scabbard at his side. She also ignores the fact that his sharp gray eyes appear to be taken aback at her demeanor.
“A woman who wears the name Van Helsing” is his short reply.
She smiles and with a flash her daggers are out of the sheaths still tight to her lean sides. The serrated edges shine crisp in the dancing torchlight.
“Thats right. I am THE Van Helsing! These are the weapons of my father. Neither he nor I are afraid of a wolf. So let me in so that I may try to speak with him” she demands spinning the Templar blades neatly to slip them back into their leather holsters. Her 8th grade drama couch would be proud of that rather Old English speech!
“As you wish but know he is past the state of communication” the angel warns her as he motions her to enter.
“Thank you, but I think I may know a way to find the man inside the wolf” she says laying her palm to the large slide bolt. The lock slides easily and she places two hands to the mossy feeling door and shoves. Hurrying to enter she steps in briskly and closes the door behind her, then slides the bolt across with tenderness.
It takes a moment for her eyes to grow used to the darkness of the dungeon but soon she finds the lone squat candle on a rusted sconce, and her throat snaps shut as scarlet eyes are waiting in the gloom to latch onto hers. He was the worst of a child's nightmare. The wolfs body dwarfed the room as he lunged to the end of the chains manacled to his wrists and ankles. He was feral wild as his enormous bulk stains and lunges, his mind lost to the world of man he leaps and screams at the bonds.
Her fingers work at the leather straps as she keeps her soft gaze on him. Gideon's weapons slump to the moist floor and she steps from the locked door. Another jerking horrid attempt as he thunders and pulls whipping the short amount of chain to and fro, the froth from his jowls puddling on the floor as he drops back down to all fours.
“Professor?” she whispers to him praying he would know her even in this state. Her life was riding on her belief that he would. Enraged red eyes latch onto her as the links clink and ting against each other. God please let him know her she thinks as her calm hand rises palm down to within a foot of the foam flecked snout.”Do you hear me in there? I think you can. No. I'm sure you can! Dominick I, I want to, I need to, we need to talk. Please?”
Feral Female - February 21, 2009 11:13 AM (GMT)
When the kitchen door comes open with a slam Sarah leaps from the sofa where she had been sitting beside Daniel to find her soft blue eyes falling on Porsche and Lucien as they hurry in.
“You are Gabriella's mother yes?”
Sarah nods clutching a canning jar of holy water tightly, then with a shocked gasp she's shoved aside by the young Vanguard.
“I warn you now dark creatures leave this home or find yourselves run through!!” the young man commands, his gold sword waving in their faces. Lucien raises a lip at the smell of the youth.
“Please” Porsche entreats holding her ground,”We are not here for any evil. We need your help Vanguard. Gabby and Dominick are....”
The Wiccan steps around the ruddy-haired boy with worry scoring across her face.”What about Gabby?” Sarah demands.
“They have been taken to the Vatican. Our brother even now faces a death sentence for attacking the one who planned the death of your daughter” Lucien announces. Sarah stares at the man openly, almost losing her hold on her canning jar.
“The Vatican” she whispers in dread, as if the Church's heart were a level of Hell. For her kind perhaps it was.
“Yes. I must get to Scotland, to the Clan. We must have help in defending my fratello. Please, you can move with a blink of an eye, take us to Scotland. Please. If we do not move swiftly....”
She doesn't need to finish the statement for Sarah knows what will fall on the were-males head.
“Take them where they want to go” Sarah tells Daniel firmly. His red-head turns to stare at the witch, then whips back to the wolves, his blade held high still.
“Oh no M` Lady Witch! I was bid to protect you and this home! My liege Sir Joshua Belmonte of....”
“Take them Daniel” she finds the young womans harried eyes as her hand comes to the youths shoulder.”Take them. I am not defenseless trust me. All I ask is that I'm taken to the trial so that I can add my knowledge of your friends character to the proceedings. Agreed?”
“Agreed. Come now! Che accelera! Time is of the essence!” Porsche pleads. The young man hesitates, clearly torn between his orders and the pleas of the people here.
“Go Daniel. Just come back for me.”
“As you wish. If my liege returns, please inform him of why I have left my post” Daniel lowers the sword into its scabbard keeping an eye on Sarah as she agrees silently. She blinks at the explosion of bright light that their leaving made, then sets into hurrying about her home. She had to gather some things and quickly! Dear Goddess of Earth she hoped Gideon would understand her need to read his words in order to save a werewolf. To save the man their daughter loved.
Candarhh Castle, Candarhh County, Scotland
“By the blessed Virgin” Daniel whispers as he stares through the gates that bar entry into the ancient castle so far above. The wind whips in dampness from Loch Ness that looms behind the edifice and he shivers despite himself. The keep was impressive, ancient and gray the stones were. He allows his gaze to linger along the winding dirt road that cut and weaved through lush green countryside, up, up the path went breaking with a start at the top of a huge landmass that jutted into the loch itself. A fine mist seems to envelope the citadel, shifting with the wind but never moving from the rounded escarpment totally.
“You two must wait here, outside the gates” Porsche tells them firmly, her raven hair battering her face as she places her hands to the thick iron gates.
“Why?” the youth blurts out now tugging his eyes to the she-wolf, glad to be free of the castles odd pull. She smiles oddly at him as Lucien works the wind with great huffs in and out. Seeking.
“No males are allowed on the grounds of the Clan. If a female were to be in season you may not come out alive young squire.”
Something rumbles from the elder wolves chest then and Daniel clutches the hilt of his sword tightly.”The she-wolves would kill me?”
Porsche laughs then streaks off in a blur. Lucien allows his white eyes to close slowly for a moment then he turns to address the youth's question.
“A she-wolf in her season would mate with you until you expired from the exertion 'Angel '.”
Daniel's brows shoot up to the top of his forehead and he staggers quickly back from the gates that held the one half of a wolfs head in each side, left and right.
“Holy Mary” he chokes out softly, crossing himself over and over ignoring the man beside him and the look of pain and bliss that has his face now.”Are there any now? In there?In, you know....the way??” he asks pointing at the castle.
“Several” Lucien shudders violently as the smells almost overwhelm him.”Do you not feel the call to mate? The tug of the huntress to your masculinity?”
The youth nods for he did feel the odd quaking deep in his belly.
“No male passes this place without the fire lighting in his veins. We need to put some distance between us and the she-wolves or I will be through those gates and upon the first bitch who reeks of a breeding cycle! And that would prove to be a costly thing to do for I value my stones where they are” Lucien rips himself free of the aroma somehow and lopes down into the deep, thick woods that border the high stone walls.
“I shall be saying novenas for eternity” Daniel worries hurrying off to catch up with the man.
“Dominick” Gabby whispers moving slowly, inch by inch until her fingers hover above the long canine nose. A growl issues from him that almost stops her heart with its intensity but she swallows down the lurch of fear.”Yeah boy you sure are a scary big bad wolf Prof” she tells him softly as he swings his wide head to and fro, almost as if he tries to keep something out, or allow something in?? Lord love a duck she hopes he's letting her in.”But as you can see I'm not wearing a red hood so the crap can stop now.”
He snaps at her weakly, a false attempt to keep her back but even as the fangs clack against tooth she catches the the slight glow in his eyes, the pulsing red surrounded by a sliver of gold. Oh man I must be nuts she thinks making her arm reach out yet again, millimeter by painful millimeter she lowers her right hand to the bridge of his snout. Thick, foamy saliva covers his fur, spattered onto his golden pelt in his madness to find her.
“Thats it” she tells him keeping her eyes locked to his, watching as his gaze lingers with hers. His enormous sides heave in and out filling the dungeon with the sound while she moves her gentle touch down over the short stiff whiskers that grow above the deadly teeth.” I knew you were in there. See its all good here Prof. I'm here and you're here. I'd prefer you were less hairy so we could talk. Guess I'll have to take a course in Dog Whispering. I hear that Professor Milan is really good!” She has little idea of whats coming from her lips, but it soothes him she can tell. Down her fingers move, tracing over his canines as he pants deeply.
“I'm going to kneel down okay? And its not like I'm worshiping at the alter of your uber maleness or anything, but my backs really tight alright? Just nod if you get...” she stops as the wolf lifts arctic blue eyes to her. So okay, instead of slowly kneeling she kind of collapses in front of him cracking her knees to the rough, cold stones of the depressing room. The touch of his long tongue on the inside of her wrist pulls a soft word from her, then her arms link around his neck as she falls into the large wolf.
She drops her lashes as she enjoys the soft feel of his pelt on her cheek and neck. The chains rattle as he moves a front foot to drape his head over her shoulder. He was three times her size easily. Her lashes whip open as his girth slips, the feel of his luxuriant gold and russet coat gone now, her fingertips resting on hard male flesh.
“Gabrielle”he groans wrapping her in his arms, pulling her against a chest bare and forged in iron.”You shouldn't be here. Dear God above I could have...”
He felt wonderful in her arms. Pure raw man, hard and lean. She burrows into his thick neck, into the hair that lays in soft waves on his powerful shoulders.”You didn't though.”
His mouth touches her then, the feel of a sparrow or a hummingbird lighting on her jugular. Her body ignites instantly and she does the same to him, a pass of her lips to his skin.”You wouldn't hurt me because you love me too much.” His entire huge body trembles as he holds her. She needed to see him, to look at his handsome face, to witness his words so she drags her head from his neck still gripping him as hard as he clings to her. God alive he was beautiful. It slams into her as she pulls back enough to capture his gaze. Blue as a winter lake his eyes touch on her face as his large hands splay over her back, the chains pool on her calves, heavy and cold.
“Right Prof?” she asks with a breath out.
“God forgive me but I do Gabrielle” Dominick admits losing any chance of denial as the heat in her ancient dark eyes batters at the last walls of his chivalry.”But this will lead you only into....”
“No. No more words” Gabby begs him.”Well, maybe just these” her lips move into a bittersweet smile.”I love you too and kiss me.”
He has no arguments left that can defeat her declaration so he does as she bids. He takes her mouth with the intensity he has fantasized about claiming her with since she had plowed into him lakeside. Her tongue meeting his as her small hands clutch fistfuls of his hair gently pushes the last wall of restraint he had and he rolls her to the thin coating of straw that was to be his bed, covering her with his naked body. The Churches chains bind them together true, but not nearly as tightly as the bonding of male and female, One and One.
Feral Female - February 28, 2009 02:58 AM (GMT)
Divinity-Issue # 22
With quaking hands Malachi dries the wound with the bare, course towel they were alloted. Since vanity were considered a sin the Vanguard were not permitted mirrors, and truthfully he had never wished to look upon himself. The wound oozes still he sees, despite the scrubbing he had given it, the gaping toothmarks continue to weep blood and sticky liquid down over his immense pectoral.
He had lived his life with fear. Been suckled with dispersions and recriminations. His startling blue eyes move to the rugged foot locker at the end of his bed. His head explodes with desperation, with loathing, with fear. Only Aspere knew the truth about him. He should go to him, to the latest Keeper and explain the circumstances he thinks tripping over his feet to reach his trunk.
Shaking fingers work the padlock that houses his secret. As the lock clicks open he weaves about, grabbing the top of the trunk to steady himself against the growing fire in his blood. But if he went to Aspere, would the priest look upon him with understanding? Or would he cast him now into the Abyss? Sweat beads upon his body, his back muscles ripple and contort as he wars with the monster inside.
Despite his blurred vision and increasing heart-rate he works at the padlock until by the grace of God it opens and he can fling the lid back. His strength growing with each push of his heart he falls over the trunk, digging in wild abandon until he finds his vials. The holy vials that keep his sinful lineage at bay. freshly given to him just days past when Aspere had taken over his 'unique' care with the passing of Father Louis.
Another throbbing blast of agony cascades over him and he blinks rapidly, sweat soaking his ebony hair now he places the stopper between his teeth and rips the cork out. Shuddering gasps of gratitude fall from his lips as he empties the first of several doses into his parched mouth. The blood was bitter and thick upon his tongue and he finds himself cursing the priest who's very life blood had kept his secret safe.
He allows himself to slide from the trunk, to skim down its stout sides with his bare back. His lids fall over his panicked eyes then and he forces himself to drink in calming breaths. He was not increasing. He was NOT changing into the monster! The Church had sworn centuries ago to care for the him and the rest of his kind, the nephilim, the 'mighty men of old, warriors of renown'.
He would laugh aloud if the pain were not so over-whelming. Thousands of years of servitude to the Church by his kind in the Vanguard. Oh yes the others were here, brought in with the full consent and knowledge of the officiates. Kept well sated by the medication of the Keeper`s blood they had been used well in the destruction of the 'demon races'. Despite the inferno in his shoulder he does cough out a laugh.
The nephilim were the best of the best. For who better to find and rid the world of those considered demons than the child of a fallen angel? His father Emim, one of the Watchers-those angels charged with watching over mankind-had fallen from grace. His mother... he had never known her name only that she had been human and beautiful enough to tempt an angel into sin. The passages burn brightly onto his closed lids from the ancient books that had drummed just how unworthy his kind were into him since childhood.
And all the others together with them took unto themselves wives, and each chose for himself one, and they began to go in unto them and to defile themselves with them. And they became pregnant, and they bore great giants, whose height was three thousand ells. Who consumed all the acquisitions of men. And when men could no longer sustain them, the giants turned against them and devoured mankind. And they began to sin against birds, and beasts, and reptiles, and fish and to devour one another's flesh, and to drink the blood.
And lawlessness increased on the Earth and all flesh corrupted its way, alike men and cattle and beasts and birds and everything that walks on the Earth-All of them corrupted and their orders. And they began to devour each other, and lawlessness increased on the Earth and every imagination of the thoughts of men was thus evil continually.
And now here he lay deep under the Church's epicenter, a creature half angel-half human who had been bitten by the wolf he had sought to use to lure the Van Helsing in. Irony was not lost on him, not at all. His hatred for the 'warriors' of the Church had grown into an all-consuming inferno since Gideon had sinned and tainted pure blood with a witch.
But had THAT child been locked away? Had that half-breed bitchling been made into a slave bound to either kill or be chained in the Abyss until the seventh trumpet blared?? No he growls out letting the blood and pus run down his chest unhampered. No. The priests had embraced the Van Helsings. Cheered them as good and holy and fitting of accolades! While he and his kind languished in secret with threats of chains until the second coming!!
A sharp rending pain sears through his chest then and Malachi doubles over, rolling to the cold stone floor, scattering the small clear vials as his fingers dig so deeply into the rock his nails rip back and bleed. Pray Malachi the priests had told him as a child as they trained him to kill his own kind, pray that one day you will be set free of your Fathers sins. A silent scream rips from him as his spinal column arcs and snaps. His lids fly open, scarlet irises rimmed with gold burn brightly.
Somehow the clarity of reason begins to sift through the after-glow of their love-making and he lifts his head from her shoulder as he cradles her slight body to his.
“Know this to be a fact Gabrielle” he pants moving his lips over her damp forehead,” You shall have no other male but me.”
Her amused giggle tugs up a golden brow and he looks down on her flushed face.
“So I have to get rid of that number display I bought from Chris Williams when he sold the deli?” she teases gently keeping her arms tight around his powerful shoulders, her breasts close to his moist chest. Did she love him? Without a doubt in her still pudding like mind she did and the threatening volley of thunder that rolls from him makes her sigh.”It was a joke Prof” she states shifting her womanly core about as she stretches up to kiss his mouth. He cannot get enough of her. He claims her mouth with strong passionate moves, staking his claim. She was his. She would not look at another or the ground would run red with the bastards blood and his entrails would...
He separates his mouth from hers with a grunt. The territorial Alpha male had emerged with an intensity the likes he had only heard about from others who had paired. Her small bottom was gyrating against him again, his large hands snug to the twin mounds of her derrière.
“I know you were, but Gabrielle a mated male is nothing to make light of” he snarls over her swelled lips as her fingers move over his back in soft, gentle rotations.”If I find the scent of another man on you...” he shudders looking into the soft brown pools of her eyes.
“In case you didn't notice the guys aren't exactly beating each other with bats to get to me” she comments with a touch of humor.
“Bloody fools” Dominick whispers wanting to slip into her again, claim her as his One over and over until the fever left his mind and body and she could think of no other male but him. But the cold reality of the manacles upon his wrists and ankles tempers the lust of the newly-mated were-male a small bit. “You are mine. I will kill any man that touches you. That is the vow of the male to the female Gabrielle.”
“Wow, you were-types take this mating thing seriously don't you?” Gabby taunts moving about atop him as he still reclines on his strong legs.”I'm yours Prof. No worries okay?” she drops a feather-like kiss to his cheek, enjoying the beard already on his face.
“You need to either separate us or lay down on your back and allow me into you again” his brisk blue eyes back-up his words she sees. They were arcing like a downed power-line dancing on the black-top.
“Hmmmm, let me think” her tones light in the dark dungeon. His hands kneading her rear-end with growing passion are not light, they are very serious. As is the mans growing ardor thats clearly evident between their sweaty bodies.”Okay, I see you're growing to like the idea” she snickers despite his teeth now raking over her bare shoulder.”Oh thats nice” her head rolls back then the sound of voices approaching the cell jerks her up with a start.”Shit!” she spits out forcing herself from him. Don't look down at him Gabrielle just find your clothes and hurry!
The flash of light blinds her momentarily standing with her pants on and her top in her hand. The brush of the gold-pelted wolf on her thigh as he moves to block whoever has arrived makes her quirk up a smile. As the dimness of the dungeon returns the green eyes that stare at her drop the soft smile from her face in a heartbeat. Well there goes my chance of getting through the pearly gates she thinks as Joshua stands next to the sputtering light. Busted by an angel in the Vatican's dungeon after doing the freaky-deaky with a werewolf that she loved more than Godsmack and her El combined was pretty much a clincher for a Saint Peter no-see.
“This isn't what you think it is?” Gabby stutters. Dominick lowers his blocky-head and growls a low rumbling warning at the angel.”Okay, it is. Why add lying to the long list?” she huffs wondering where her shoes were. The Vanguard tosses the clothes he arrived with at the gold and russet wolf.
“I would have you human Kane for we have much to discuss and little time. Your hearing before the Priests begins at sunrise after morning mass. As for this” he motions with an inclination of his head to the young woman half-dressed with straw thickly meshed into her thick chestnut hair,”I ask only this. Are you sure of this path Gabrielle?”
“Yes” she replies with a lift of her chin and a set to her slim shoulders.
He nods his white-head in understanding.”So be it. Get dressed Kane.”
“Joshua?” Gabby calls as he slips the bolt open on the lock that gave them their small time of bliss.”You're not mad?”
“I am not so far removed from my humanity that I do not recall how love feels. I shall return with food and wine and we shall begin work on your defense.” The door creaks open and he moves through, the white of his Templar tunic stark for a moment in the dingy portal.
Candarhh County, Scotland
“Ask your questions lad.”
Daniel starts at the first words the pacing male has uttered since they had entered this primal Scottish wood.
“I have no queries” the young man replies quickly keeping his redhead turned from the keep and his hand on the hilt of his sword. His ruddy face lifts from the tree he had stared at for so long his neck has seized into place when the werewolf chuckles.
“You are not one born to lie angel” Lucien says as he works off the subtle call of the citadels members. Even this far he could find the fine aroma of the she-wolves. He closes his blind eyes allowing the damp breeze from the loch to blow over his face and lift his brown and gray hair from his neck.”You wish to know how our society works do you not?”
“NO!” Daniel announces rapidly.”I have no interest in the ways of the demon races! That you would lay with a woman before the blessed vows of marriage are spoken by a priest is sacrilegious!”
The older man allows a smile to play over his lips as his body thrums with desire.”You have been well trained in the rhetoric of the Church young Vanguard. But do you not think knowledge is a far better tool than sanctimonious edicts?”
“Speak if you wish wolf! I just shall not listen!” he announces proudly standing a bit straighter sure of his self-control. Sir Joshua would indeed be most pleased in his refusal of the knowledge of the base actions of the wolves and the....
“Your attitude amuses me. It has been many hundreds of years since I have encountered such pomposity in a male so young” Lucien smirks to himself, turning his back to the winds ripe message.”I will just keep the ways of the Clan to myself then, so not to taint the ears of such a fine and pure virgin.”
“As well you should wolf!”
Time drags by as the huge male lopes in a continuous circle to the left of the young man. Daniel finds his thoughts moving back to the gate and he stirs some in his sentry duty. His body was restless and his thoughts seemed to linger only on the keep and what could be found behind the mists. “I have reconsidered. Knowledge of what a man faces is paramount in keeping the Church's laws enforced.”
“Ha! My you do play the role of celibate warrior well young Daniel. But I wonder if your celibacy is due to lack of desire or lack of chance before the Papal slavers got their hooks into you.”
“I have desire!” he blurts out getting another deep peal of laughter from Lucien as his face turns red at his honesty.
“I know. It hangs about you in a cloud so thick it near to chokes me! Consider your chaste self fortunate that the women in season are cloistered or your lust would call them down here and we would be lost in a breeding frenzy .” Lucien pauses letting the boy gulp down his ardor,”Since we have time to kill and I doubt you are in the mood to hunt I shall convey the mating and breeding ways of our race, for your knowledge in the quest to exterminate us of course!” the were-male laughs softly at the young mans discomfort at his natural drives.
“If you wish” Daniel sniffs then resumes his study of the Scottish elm that was most fascinating.
Lucien pads closer to the squire then reaches out, finding the trees trunk he then leans his burly shoulder to the smooth bark of the oak the boy stands in front of.
“Where to begin?” Lucien ponders stroking his chin as his white eyes crinkle at the small, buried sound the noble squire of Sir Belmonte makes.
Feral Female - March 7, 2009 11:38 AM (GMT)
Candarhh County, Scotland
“First young squire, you are aware of the anatomical differences in male and female? I'll take your sudden flair of anger as a yes since I cannot hear your brains rattling in your head! When our kind first came to be it was centuries ago. How the wolf entered our blood is fable and of course our tellings differ from yours greatly. We find no demons in our lineage as you and your Church do. But I digress and you wish to hear the sordid parts no?” Lucien inquires enjoying this game greatly. He would much rather be in the cloisters attending to each one of those ripe....A deep breath in and out.
“You shall go no further Lucien Yonescu!” the sound of her voice carries well on the winds of the loch, as does her aroma. Glaveryn and cloistered females nearly brings the wolf-male to his knees as he picks up the gasp of the young squire on the other side of the trunk. There were times he wished for his vision back, they had grown fleeting over the years true but his lack of sight at this moment tears at him, for he would give much to look upon the bonnie Stewart now. He instead pads forward following the smell of her and falls to one knee before her. Her hand finds his extended one as his lips brush across her knuckles.
“As you wish high heid gin” he trembles inside as he pays his respect to the female of the highest rank in her own tongue. Fear does not make the man shudder, desire and memories do. Does she allow him to linger longer than most over her creamy hand he ponders. Does she still look the young woman he knew centuries ago with tresses as red as the Stewart tartan and eyes as deeply green as the hills of Candarhh? Do her lips still beckon a man to the crannog that is Cherry Island out in the loch?
“You're games with the lad expose too much Lucien. Now rise before ye stain your breeks” she commands gently, her R`s rolling from her in just the fashion he recalled. One last taste he decides moving his lips over her fingers and the heavy golden crest ring upon her middle finger. He comes to his feet fairly ignoring the sleek she-wolf to his right.
“My sister has explained the situation with Kane” Glaveryn states settling the man with a soft look. He had changed much and yet not much. His eyes, that saddens her since her fondest recollections of their time together had been his gaze upon her as they made love. Gone now were the heady brown eyes she knew. Aye, truly a loss any woman would mourn. Lucien falls back a step as was proper allowing Porsche to finally enter his besotted mind.”I am willing to lend my support to his cause. But as is tradition when one asks for a favor from the Clan, one gives one as well.”
“I give you the celibate angel!” Lucien offers with a bow snickering over the young mans gasp of horror.
“And what would I do with a wee Sassenach who has ne'er been taught what his baobie is for?” Glaveryn tosses out culling an affronted sound from Daniel.
“I find no humor in the mention of my baobie!” the lad shouts wishing his cheeks were not aflame and also wishing he knew for sure what a baobie truly were.
“Name your favor!” Porsche interjects quickly locking her firm gaze to her Queens deep green one.”Whatever you wish shall be done!!”
A sound of disfavor comes from Yonescu for his hot blooded pack-mate had leaped before thinking. Glaveryn was not one to pass on something that would benefit the Clan. His hands slip into the pockets of his trousers agitatedly.
“When we are done this defense of Kane you are to return to the Clan and wed Sylvain Eliade.”
Porsche stands rooted in the lush grass agape at the price to pay. Words will not come to her.
“No!” Lucien snarls at the red-headed beauty who waits patiently. She ignores the rumbling male for it was not his decision to make. Females decided their fates, their lovers, their mates. And well the man knew this so his anger simmered but he remained silent. Just.
“You ask me to trade my life for Dominick's?” Porsche replies finding her tongue dry and sandy of a sudden.
“Marriage is not a death sentence but aye, as is my right lass” Glaveryn announces arms crossed over the shawl of red and white tartan she had tossed over the Monkee`s sweatshirt when Porsche had arrived in a fash. “What say ye Porsche Giordano?”
“Si signora” Porsche whispers buckling down to place her lips to the Clan`s signet on Glaveryn`s left hand.
“How dare you!? You cold hearted bitch!” Lucien explodes coming into Glaveryn`s sad face in a fraction of a second.”You would offer my sister to the Eliade`s in such a manner!?”
“I would remind you that matters of the Clan are no concern of yours MALE!” she growls bonnie green eyes flickering to scarlet for a moment. Daniel tightens his grip on the hilt of his sword at the fierce exchange.”Know that I do this only to unite the packs. She is a Huntress who serves her duty to her Clan. Sylvain is the eldest son of the Alpha male. Now wheech us to Kane angel!”
Daniel casts a worried look to the woman still on her knees in the thick emerald grass, her beautiful face a mask of pain, then to the were-male glowering at the lovely leader of this Clan. The Vatican would seem a Godsend and he wastes no time in teleporting them to the calm and serenity of the Vanguards catacombs.
The halls are quiet Father Aspere notices as he returns from confession. His soul had been heavy and sleep had avoided him so he had found his solace in the act of contrition. Now his mind would be clear for the trial that was now only mere hours away. It was good he decides sweeping wearily to his chamber that soon the Lords earth would have one less fetid beast roaming about it.
His dark brows draw down as he ponders the Van Helsing. She would be excommunicated surely, as was only just but still he worried about the ramifications of doing so. He too answered to those above him and perhaps they would wish something less severe? He allows his hood to fall to his shoulders as he now enters his small chamber.
Two small candles greet him as he turns to close the door. Surely he thinks as he moves to wash for the night, surely his role as Keeper would keep him in a favorable light no matter the Van Helsings outcome? Yes. He was sure his record of devotion to the Church and its never-ending fight against evil would hold him here. Very few knew the ways of a Keeper he thinks rather smugly as he pushes up his course sleeves and dips his hands into the cold water.
The nephilim were a closely guarded secret even in the ranks of the churches hierarchy. The other Vanguard knew naught of them he knows splashing his face and rubbing his cheeks roughly. So yes, his tenure here would be a long one he thinks letting a smile lift the corners of his lips slightly as he squeezes his eyes tightly. His dedication would be rewarded with...
Through his closed lids the flash of light makes the priest spin about with a start. Water clinging to his dark lashes he opens his lids to see a creature come from the Abyss itself. Its upon him before he can form a scream. It moves like the finger of death, sure and swift the huge animal has his throat locked in its jowls and his last thought is one of bitter agony. His breath now slips from the horrid mangle that was his throat as he feebly paws at the thing that engorges itself on his blood.
Death comes sadly slowly, loss of blood and suffocation taking a few moments. Long grisly minutes where he could hear the sounds of the angelic/demonic wolf drinking from him as the pressure of its mouth clamped tighter and tighter. The blackness creeps in as he tries to grasp the ebony fur on shoulders as wide as his bed. Then blessed relief when it rips his throat open. Thankfully the priest has passed over when Malachi rips him apart, showering the room with gore and violence.
Holding a limb in his hand the creature finds a small thought amid the chaos in his mind. One last human who would pay for his life time of Hell here in the Vatican. Heavenly powers illuminate the room as he moves to the deepest bowels of the catacombs intent on another taste of blood and death.
Soundless sputters of the twin candles greet the rap on the priests door. Mute rivulets of wax call out to the Templar knight who seeks a lone counsel before the hearing begins to plead his case one last time. Hushed pools of crimson await the angel as his stalwart hand turns the ancient latch upon the Keepers portal.
“I'm not sure how he expects you to get dressed when you're chained like a dog” Gabby comments securing Gideon's daggers to her lean sides tightly. She might as well go looking like the assassin as opposed to a wolf-hugger. Was that like a tree-hugger she stops mid-buckle to ruminate. His growl snaps her from her stupor.”Sorry Prof, no offense. Maybe you should stay furry so the muckity-mucks don't get embarrassed when they see your.....”
Gabby blinks at the sudden bright light in the dimly lit dungeon while her fingers secure the last brass buckle along her left side. She gets a quick breath in to ask Joshua how they were supposed to get the clothes on the large hunky man when something slams into her, it crushes her arms to her sides and her breath from her lungs. Through the fall of her chestnut hair she gets a quick look at what has her and the image rips a scream from her. The wolf explodes against its bonds as another blinding flare of white light encompasses the dungeon leaving the golden canine near to killing itself as its roars travel through stone floors and walls alike.
The arrival of Daniel and the were-wolves is lost in the bedlam that encompasses the Vanguards sanctuary.
“What in the name of the Virgin?!” the squire mumbles as shouts echo down the rounded damp halls. The call to arms being relayed makes the wolves cringe, but its the keenest ears that pick up the desperate howls of his brother in the chaos.
“Where are the dungeons?!” Lucien bellows grabbing the young man up and snarling into his flushed face.
“Below!!” Daniel coughs out as his boots fall back to the rough stone walkway. The three race off, Glaveryn taking the blind mans hand as they streak past angels flooding into the halls, gold weapons drawn and shimmering in the leaping torch light. Young Daniel follows the three weaving around the warriors of God to catch up to the wolves.
“WAIT!!” he shouts out bouncing off a large angel racing upwards to the priests chambers.”You'll get lost! Follow me!”
Porsche's brown eyes are wide as her fratello`s agonized howls now stop. What did his silence mean?! She grabs Daniel's wrist and hurries him along, not looking back over her shoulder for Lucien or her Queen. Marriage?! No! She could not think of that now! Her brother was what was important! He had saved her life, she would save his. Simple yes?
“Che accelara!” she snaps at Daniel as they run down stairwell after stairwell.
Soon they break around the corner and find the goal empty, the guards apparently leaving when the call to arms sounded. Their noses lead them quickly to the correct door and Lucien rends it from its hinges with one slam of his girthy shoulder to the stout portal.
Porsche rams into Lucien's wide back as the man has stopped dead in the doorway, the smell is thick and cloying and he works the air feverishly.
“MOVE!” she snarls whipping around him only to freeze as Yonescu had. For her heart must have stopped its strong beating she knows as she looks down at the huge russet and gold wolf, its jaws covered with dark red blood as Dominick lifts his crimson eyes to theirs showing them his canines, his front right leg mauled and mangled where he had been chewing above the manacle.
Feral Female - March 14, 2009 01:12 AM (GMT)
Divinity-Issue # 24
“Stand aside!!” Daniel shouts dashing past the three stunned werewolves with his golden sword raised over his red-head. Lucien snarls a warning as the young squires weapon cleaves through one length of chain, then another, the links popping like overly ripe chestnuts over a blaze about the dungeon. Dominick crouches down to spring at the door when the dank room glows with white, Joshua appearing in his armor. Soft white plate that shimmers in the torchlight, the squires centuries of meticulous care evident in the pristine appearance of the Knight Templars battle-gear. Sharp green eyes fall to the gold wolfs condition then rake over the rest as the upper chambers are rapidly emptied, the Pontiff being shuttled secretly to a safe location.
“Where is Gabrielle?” Joshua asks through his open helm. Ice cold blue eyes latch onto the Vanguard as Dominick sags back to his haunches, shifting to human form.”Answer me Kane!”
“Gone!” Dominick growls swiping wildly at Porsche and Glaveryn as they step to the nude man kneeling in the straw.
“Gone? Tell me not the beast has her?!”
“My liege! Kane is injured. May I bring the Wiccan to tend his wounds?” Daniel asks and receives the barest of nods.
“I do not require her balms! What the hell has taken Gabrielle!?” Dominick demands taking the breeches offered to him by Lucien, his arm torn near to the bone he pushes the older were-male aside as he clothes himself in angry jerking motions.
In a blur Joshua finds himself against the seeping damp stone wall with a clatter of armor when Dominick pounces across the room in one unseen leap, his thick forearm across the Vanguards neck.”What the hell has my One!??!”
The others gasp at the scene, Lucien and Porsche dashing up to try to pull their Alpha from a sure death when an ivory gauntlet rises stemming them.
“A nephilim” Joshua informs the snarling man, bloody death seeping from each thundering breath out of the lycanthrope.
“A what?” Dom inquires ignoring the flash of the squire and the witch off to his right. “What the hell is that?! Tell me Vanguard or so help me I shall rip out your bloody throat!!”
“What's going on?!?!” Sarah shouts once then she finds the one she seeks missing.”Wheres Gabby?”she asks with a small tremble in her voice.
“The offspring of a fallen angel” Joshua states, the loathing rich in his clipped tone and fevered look.”I had the pleasure of finding Father Aspere or what was left of him after his 'charge' returned to him. Your bite Kane, its affected the sacrilege somehow.”
“You're talking in riddles Vanguard!” Glaveryn hisses at Joshua her brogue deepening with anxiety. “Niphilim are mere legend! How could Kane's bite....”
“As are witches and werewolves?”Joshua counters quickly then with a great shove removes the corded arm from his throat.”Unknown to but a few the Church has been using these, these, defamations to remove the demon races. Aspere`s scribe and underling revealed all when he entered the 'Keepers' quarters on my heels.”
“WHERE`S GABBY!?!?!” Sarah screams in panic, a cloth bag wound tightly into her small fist.
“We do not know Sarah” Joshua tells her gently. Her face falls into one of horror and her bag of medicinal herbs and salves drops to the straw, Dominick's roar of fury and pain hiding the thud of the journal stashed inside with the bee-balm and wild rosemary.
“How do we find out where this THING has taken Gabriella?” Porsche snaps at Joshua. His silence pulls a mewl from Sarah and Daniel bolsters her arm.
“I know a way” Sarah whispers out.”Dominick, some hair. NOW!” she jerks her chin up and swipes the back of her hand under her glasses as she holds out an open palm.
“You intend to do black magic in this place?” Daniel draws back a step with shock.
“This womans powers can bring little darker than what our own priests have. Proceed Sarah” Joshua tells her gruffly. Dominick obliges the witch, tugging at his hair and dropping the strands into her damp palm.
She drops to her knees in the underbelly of the Vatican and tugs small pouches from her cloth bag. A touch of her finger into one and a rectangle slowly forms on the stone floor in charcoal. Another pouch dumped into the rectangle, ground clover and rose petals, then the mans golden hair falls within the charcoal lines. A small blunt white candle that Lucien lights from the torch is settled in the middle of the rectangle.
“Now you must invoke this spell Dominick. As the one seeking the Goddess for the door your love for my daughter is the longing” Sarah rises from her knees and stands beside Dom, whispering the words to him on her toes.
“I Dominick Kane standing still, uttering a blessing. I go from the room to the door, from the courtyard to the gates. I go out into the field on the Eastern side. On the Eastern side stands a cottage. In the middle of the cottage lies a door in the floor. Under the door is longing. The longing weeps. Longing sobs waiting to get to the white light. To rejoice in the light of eternal love I step into the door and it brings me to my longing.”
He falls back on bare feet as the rectangle flares to light. Soft mutterings from the squire as Kane peers down into the open door in the floor, its soft illumination showing him a circular stairwell as he looks downward.
“Step into the door Kane. Go find my daughter” Sarah rests her hand on his forearm, the touch tender where he had been willing to loose a limb for her child.
“I shall go with you Kane” Joshua comments tugging a withering glare from the werewolf.”It was I who swore Gabrielle into the Churches service, and thusly into the deceit that placed her in peril. My fealty is pledged to her service.”
“So be it Vanguard” Dominick mutters before taking the step into the magicked portal at his feet.
The 'Nubble' ( A small rocky island off Cape Heddick Maine )
The re-apparition lands them on the small island that houses the 'Nubble' lighthouse, a steady pulsing glow of red landing on her captor as he shifts quickly back to whatever the hell it is he is.
“Tell me you know Revelations Van Helsing” Malachi growls down at her still tight in his embrace.
“Like, you finally revealed yourself and you're a jerk-wad? Or the other Revelations?” she just manages to taunt when he hurls her at the 41 foot tower with a roar of anger. The impact into the brick-lined cast iron tower knocks the air from her and she lands on her stomach wheezing for a taste of the salt-water rich oxygen. Before she can manage to lift her chestnut hair from the gravel surrounding the lighthouse the nephilim is on her again. One powerful hand to the back of her head and Malachi hoists her from her stomach by her hair to slam her slim back into the white side of the Nubble.
“Do not toy with me 'exalted one' or you'll not live long enough to appease Abaddon” he rumbles in her face, his eyes as red as the warning beacon that moves steadily around in its circle above them.”Revelations 13:1. NOW!!!”the creature shouts, his breath rich with hatred mixed with pestilence and copper as it blasts across her face.
“Fine!” Gabby spits at his contorted face.”Then I stood on the sand of the sea. I saw a beast coming up out of the sea, having ten horns and seven heads. And on his horns were ten crowns and on his heads, blasphemous names!” she kicks out at the son of one of the fallen.
“So the bastard whelping of Gideon and a witch DID learn the words. Tell me Van Helsing was your Wiccan mother the woman who rode the beasts back? Was she adorned in purple and scarlet and in her hand did she hold the golden cup full of abominations and the filthiness of her fornication?”
“No you asshole that was Babylon!” Gabrielle hisses striking out with Gideon's dagger in a short arc that drags the Templar blade deep across the tendons of Malachi's right wrist. His bellow of pain reverberates off the rocky islands cliffs, his grip on her loosens and she drops to her feet. Wild loose hair whips around as she pivots, her vision locked in tightly as the twin blades slash across his bare back.
He drops down to all fours, the wolf again and pounces at her. Gabby braces and spins the daggers outward hoping to pierce this things heart with both weapons but he moves like the ocean wind, a blur as the scarlet torch revolves and her legs are taken out from under her. Down she goes to her back on the stony ground with a loud huff, one tasseled blade bouncing from her hand across the flat Maine rock.
He leaps-she brings her legs up, her knees catching the snarling wolf in its wide ribcage. His immense weight buckles her legs down to her chest, large snapping jowls attempt to find her delicate throat but her lone blade finds his first. Gabrielle slams the dagger into the side of Malachi's neck to the hilt and his reaction is rapid and boisterous.
As he works at trying to remove her knife Gabby gets to her feet panting rapidly and dives for the lost Templar dagger, her small hand getting the smooth handle to her palm as the beast explodes in wrath behind her. Her feet scrabble and slip on the damp rock as she hurries to right herself. Another blast of outrage and pain roars across the small island and Gabrielle plants herself down low in a crouch, up on the balls of her feet watching him flash into human form to tug the crimson-covered weapon from his thick neck through a bramble of chestnut hair.
“Come on!!” she shouts out as a wall of sea-water buffets the island, the white spray dousing the man bleeding and nude in a blink of vermilion light. A squeal that cuts through the surf to their left pulls her eyes from her adversary for a second, her 'senses' so loud now she can barely hear the oceans roar when the lone light-keeper steps out from the tower.
“NO!! Go back inside!!” Gabby shouts as the man wavers in the door-frame. She breaks for the tower as the monster does, her gait nowhere near fast enough to beat him, his flash of white light blinding her for a second as she charges on. A horrid scream comes from the man she had only glimpsed in silhouette as the hybrid literally rips the poor man asunder, then drops his head to feast on the blood still pumping from the jagged jugular.
“Bastard!” Gabby hisses leaping as she nears the grisly scene to slam all her slight weight into the downward blow with Gideon's blade. The nephilim gurgles, its mouth spilling fresh blood as its head spins to spy her in mid-air. Faster than she would have imagined, or known had she read that damned journal instead of falling for a gold-pelted hunk-a-wolf the creature lashes out one huge arm that catches her in her abdomen then propels her through the gaping door. Her head and back are hammered into the steps that curl up in a neat spiral to the light-room making her vision explode into white and black fireworks vying for attention.
Something jerks her up, something makes her slip around to her belly and begin to try to climb higher. Perhaps its the sound of the feast and the carnage of an innocent. Perhaps its the low, thundering rumble that accompanies the sound of bones popping as something happens to the thing. Perhaps its the warm, rich European mans tone in her ringing head that urges her to escape. But as she grimaces and tries to give herself time to think and rest she chances a fast look back. Oh hell she mumbles to herself. SO not good!
Her dark eyes grow round as she sees him increasing in size, growing with bones shattering and his body convulsing, Malachi grows. Wider. Taller. A giant half-breed that now pins her with hatred puddling from his red eyes. She forces herself to her feet and climbs, hand over hand, the Templar blade ringing loudly in the tower as it hits the polished metal rail. Gabby hears the frame of the door crumble, Malachi's girth to big to squeeze through he busts a wider passage to get to her.
Hurry! Hurry!! She stumbles a bit, then drags herself upwards, the iron under the bricks groans loudly as he pushes through. A wind blows in the wide opening she can feel as she catches the slow steady sound of his bare feet climbing one step then another. Coming behind her.
“You are out of places to hide Van Helsing” she hears keeping her screaming mind on climbing, the clatter of her blade as he drops it down the rounded circle in the center of the steps making her wince.”You have one dagger left. Do you not wonder why your blessed blades do not fell me daughter of the fornicators? I am half-angel, half-human.....”
“And part wolf so you're just all kinds of inbred aren't you Cletis?” Gabrielle grunts then wonders what possesses her to run her mouth? Because he sounded REALLY pissed now if that bellow of anger were any indication. Two hands find her shoulders, huge they are now covering her upper back completely he tugs her up roughly over his head as if she were no more than a leaf caught on the stairwell, a trifling thing blown in on a crisp fall day, his bulging arms hoist her higher overhead.
“You cannot kill me Van Helsing!” he spits her vile name out,”The Templar blades cannot drop one of heavenly blood!”
“Stupid fine print!” she grinds out through clenched teeth wrenching some in his grip Gabby snarls as her blade travels down in a streak, the serrated edge lacerating his eyes. Hellfire erupts from him in long vile streams of profanity, her writhing frame whipped over the railing as Malachi totters backwards, his fingers clasped over his eyes. Neither in the tower witness the glowing portal opening above them. She too busy screaming as she plummets, he blinded by the Templar dagger.
Feral Female - March 21, 2009 11:08 AM (GMT)
'Save yourself !' Gabrielle hears through the screaming shriek of panic as she hurtles downward, the deep male voice ricochets around her mind for a brief second then its gone. She follows the instruction best she can, bending herself into a small arc mid-air. Her hand slaps onto the burnished railing with the grace of God and her body whips downward with speed driving her chest soundly into the lighthouses rail.
Well heck yes this is SO much better she grunts hanging by one damp hand looking down at a thirty foot drop that Halle Berry in that sexy black cat-suit could maybe make, with wires attached to her of course. She was a huge star after all and wouldn't risk her beautiful life fighting a wolf-angel-mutate thing now would she?? Hell no. Not without CGI and a large amount of money for make-up. FOCUS Gabby she scolds herself firmly.
Malachi's roars reverberate around her as she feverishly tries to keep her thoughts on the battle and the fact that if she drops her lone dagger to get both hands to the rail pestilence-breath up there would have her completely at his mercy. Not that hanging by a lone hand didn't put her in a very similar situation mind. Her sweaty brow wrinkles for a moment then she closes her eyes and releases the Templar blade. Bye-bye means of self-defense she laments as her fingers come loose from the rail. Quickly she snakes a firm hold with TWO, count `em TWO hands, to the support rails under the smooth banister.
“Gabrielle!” she hears as she's working on trying to get a small foot up high enough to pull herself up before IT gets done yelling and decides to come over to pay her back for the small case of eye irritation.
“PROF! A hand here?!” she shouts out as her heel streaks off the metal once again. She groans out at the pull of her arm muscles when his large hands clamp onto her wrists through the ten inch openings in the iron-work. She peeks up, her hair stuck to her glistening face to see his frantic arctic gaze riveted to her.”About time!” she spits making her hair spurt out.
“You're really in no position to criticize about tardiness Miss Devon!” Dominick comments, kneeling on the cold steps in borrowed breeches. The heated curse from Malachi tugs his head around as he holds his One tightly. The sight one he knows should he roam this Earth for another thousand years he would never see again. Praise be to the Queen.
Malachi, his contorted face smeared with a mix of his blood and the elderly light-keepers, lashing out with both hands to grip the golden sword that has speared deeply into his massive chest. Howls of utter agony cascade about and about as Joshua plants both palms to the hilt of his weapon and pushes the blade clean through and into the circular wall of the Nubble.
“Hey! Yoo-Hoo! Hello!? Woman needs wolf-man to pay attention to her here!!”
“Sorry” Dominick remarks turning his attention back to the slight thing with her petite feet dangling freely. After a bit of finagling his thick arms are hoisting her slim form over the rail and directly into a crushing embrace. Her breath is forced from her but she finds the feel of his bare skin next to her over-rides the need to breath. For a short-time anyway. She clings to him for dear life, his warm breath fanning her chestnut hair. Then a sound fills the stair-well, a sound unlike any she has ever heard in her whole eighteen years. It rakes across her spine, it makes the huge man holding her cry out softly at the assault on his ears.
Both turn instantly to watch the nephilim still skewered on the Vanguards heavy sword begin to lurch about. Malachi's bright blue eyes peer intently into the small slits in Joshua's helm.
“Please” it coughs out, rich foaming blood leaking from the corner of the once violent mouth,”Please....Viaticum.”
Joshua stares at the creature he had called 'Brother' for centuries with a flare of pity. For this thing, this off-spring of a fallen was no more to blame for its circumstances than he was. They had both been lied to by the Church. Used and manipulated.
“I am no priest” he gently states .”I have no oil or....”
“Matters....not” he hacks up more scarlet fluid”Rather knight....than priest. Hear my....final confession....”
Gabby stays wrapped in Dominick's arms as the Knight Templar nods once then with a mighty lurch frees the dying soul from his sword. The golden blade crashes to the steps as Joshua moves quickly to catch the man as he collapses.
“My brother....I have sinned... against God...” a whispered confession follows amid soft sounds of death coming. Joshua tugs his helmet off with a jerk, his knees solid to the steps as he cradles the nephilim gently, each hoarse cough spattering his pristine armor. Dominick keeps Gabrielle close as the Knight whispers the Apostles creed along with the beast. Her whole body is trembling he feels as they witness a rite that guarantees nothing since they lacked a good father. But as the last words come softly to them wound about each other the were-wolf knows this is more for peace of spirit for the wretched soul than anything else. For would any of them be granted admission when their time came?
“May the Lord Jesus protect you and lead you to eternal life” Joshua prays quietly his white head bowed as the last breath leaves the Church's warrior in his arms. The three remain as they are with the sounds of the surf outside and the steady hum of the light moving in its never-ending warning above them. None willing to speak it seemed, the two needing more the heat of each other. Joshua then lays Malachi down softly, taking the time to close the blue eyes that have at last found peace. He rises and turns his head slightly to view the girl staring at him openly. Gideon's gaze questioning as the werewolf strokes her back, his piercing eyes on the Templar Knight also.
“Gabrielle, I am sorry” he states roughly then with a flash that makes the were-male and the Van Helsing blink, he's gone. His soft ivory helm resting next to the golden sword beside the cooling remains of heaven and hell combined.
One month later
“Autumn is over the long leaves that love us
And over the mice in the barley sheaves;
Yellow the leaves of the rowan above us
And yellow the wet-wild strawberry leaves.
The hour of the waning of love has beset us
And weary and worn are our sad souls now;
Let us patt, `ere the season of passion forget us
With a kiss and a tear on thy drooping brow.”
Dominick mutters softly placing a soft kiss to the drooping brow of his One as she lays beside him. Her hand strokes over his bare chest absently, her skin heated still from their love-making here in their bower. The bed of the El Camino covered with old blankets and atop their nude forms a thick sleeping bag.
“So am I going to have to hear Yeats every time we bump and grind?” she asks running her flat palm over his abdomen, her moist breath warm across his powerful chest.
“It was the only poem that came to mind with a fall theme” he comments, resting his head on his thick forearm under the mane of russet and gold. They came here often of late, forcing the El to bounce and troddle over the rough land. His sharp eyes watch a red maple leaf waft upward, caught in a whirlwind of the autumn breezes.
“Mmm. Well maybe I need to make you pay attention to me and not the leaves drifting down.”
“Perhaps” he taunts jerking at the touch of her soft hand to his thigh. They fall into silence again for a time then she speaks out quietly.
“I wonder where Joshua went.”
“Nothing from him yet then?” he asks admiring the sun as it peeks through the canopy of red and yellow and gold above to light her dark hair in moving glorious patterns of light. Her head shakes slightly on his chest.
“He needs time Gabrielle” Dom reminds her again.”The poor blokes whole world, hell his whole bloody existence shattered down around him! Its no wonder he needs time to get his bearings.”
“He gave up everything for the Church. And for what?” she asks not really expecting a reply for there was none to give. They had discussed the events over and over since that fateful night. There were no answers she knows, but still....she missed him. He had been a father to her in many ways and now that she had left the Church and its deceitfulness to work on her own she had no way of getting any information on her mentor.
“So tell me of Porsche” she changes the subject to one less painful. But just a hair less.
“She seems to be settling in nicely” Dominick replies gruffly. This was a major sore spot for him. One he and Lucien had argued time and again with Porsche and yet the stubborn chit insisted she fulfill her duty to the Clan. Her Clan.
“You miss her too don't you?”
His chest gathers a deep breath under her cheek and she tilts her head some to peer up at him. He needed a shave. Do werewolves grow hair faster than normal men?
“Horribly” he admits as a oak leaf drifts languidly down to rest on the red and black sleeping bag that hides her bare back.
“She had to do what she felt was right Prof” Gabby reminds him now. “Who knows, maybe when she finds this Sylvain they'll fall madly in love! Its possible you know for enemies to bridge a gap like that” her tone slips into playfulness as her fingers wrap around him. The mighty wolf grunts out a warning about her dainty fingers and toying with a hungry wolf.”Hungry? You should be pretty full buddy!” she purrs stroking him gently under the quilted bag.
“Thats where you make your mistake Van Helsing!” he growls deeply rolling her to her back in a flash.”Wolves are never satisfied my One” he slips easily between her toned thighs, his mouth moving in sharp nips over her exposed neck.” Tell me you love me Gabrielle” he entreats as he enters her.
“I love you” she sighs locking her legs around his hips, her arms around his thick, muscular shoulders.”Even if you require a flea dip monthly” she giggles then arches her back with a mewl to allow him to love her more. Love her like no other ever could. Love her as his One.
Sarah sighs a weary sigh as she tugs the healing herbs from her garden. Winters first touch had fallen last night, the plants drooping with the heavy frost that had covered the grass. She always hated this time of year. The nights were long and cold and so very lonely.
“Excuse me Wiccan but would you have a balm to mend a broken soul?”
She smiles a wee bit and turns on her denim-clad knees to look back at the man behind her. She had never seen him out of his Templar garb, but now he stood in her small yard in jeans and a well-worn jacket. She pushes her soft-blue glasses up her nose as she regards him seriously for a moment. He was so very alone too his green eyes said.
“Sadly souls are out of my realm Templar. But I can warm some cider if you'd like?”
“I should enjoy that Sarah.”
Love truly is a state of Divinity.
MsMarvelDuckie - July 28, 2009 11:28 PM (GMT)
Interesting tale, Feral! I'll have to get more into this later- running out of time now, but I read the first chapter.
Feral Female - July 29, 2009 10:03 AM (GMT)
Thanks Ducks. This was my one of my favorites, I just love a good romance! And hunky werewolves ain`t nothing to sneeze at either!