An average kidnapping {Kyle, Rissa, Corbin, ASK}

[Lillie Galleau]

Oh, for all that was holy…she needed to get the license plate of the truck that hit her and have the driver arrested. Whoof, talk about a hangover. Had she had tequila last night? She’d tried a few jello shots with Tyson at some point, but…man, she was a lightweight. What time was it, anyway?

Reaching a hand out to feel for the talking alarm clock that sat on the nightstand next to her bed, a smile twitched onto Lillie’s lips. Just trust her to get a hangover from two thimbles full of vod…vod…

Her alarm clock definitely didn’t feel like moldy rock. And either her mattress had really de-fluffed itself in the past 24 hours, or she was lying on a just-as-moldy stone floor.

HOLY GUAC!

With a gasp, she shot up, on her feet in one jerking motion. Yeah, that was definitely some sort of cobblestone beneath her feet, and the musky smell of dirt and mold replaced the familiar smells of her apartment. How in Heaven’s name did she manage to get here? And where the heck WAS ‘here,’ anyway?

“Hello?” She called out, holding her hands in front of her as she slowly put one foot in front of the other. Oh, ew, one bare foot. Where were her freaking shoes? Pausing, she let her hands travel over her chest and belly. A nightgown? Why the heck was she wearing a nightgown? The last thing she remembered, she’d just come back from…from…

Oh God. Someone had grabbed her, right in her living room. The memory of his voice slithered through her mind and she blanched. She’d been kidnapped. Holy heck in a hand basket!

But alright, she had to keep her head. What had her older brother always said? Be calm in a crisis; so that’s what she was going to do. Holding out her hands once more, she took a deep breath and moved forward. Her voice echoed in the room- echoes meant tall ceilings, and did she hear trees moving? Forest. She was somewhere in the forest- as she continued to call out, moving her arm slowly from side to side, searching for a door, a window, SOMETHING—

With a yelp as her foot caught on something hard and wet on the floor, she pitched forward, landing on her knees and hands with a thud. Letting loose a string of curses that would have made her brothers proud, she felt around for the annoying obstacle. It was long, had some kind of fabric hanging off of it…sticky and smelled like bad eggs. What the heck had she just tripped over?

“I’m afraid that you might want to put that away from your face, my dear.

Oh, God, it was that voice again! Practically tossing the object away from her, she lurched to her feet, balling her fists in a ‘come get me’ manner.
“Who the heck are you, and where the heck am I? I hope you know that kidnapping is a felony and my brother’s a cop, so if you don’t want to get your butt thrown in jail, you’d better let me go!”

A laugh vibrated in the room, causing the fine hairs on the back of her neck to stand on end. Okay, definitely not a Dr. Evil type laugh, right there, but rather a ‘hey, I’m demented and quite psycho!’
Who the heck was this guy?

The voice seemed to slither from spot to spot on the room, as if the man it belonged to were moving. She spun around, trying her best to keep up with the disembodied voice, but all she managed to do was give herself a headache.

“Quite the feisty one, aren’t you?” It murmured, behind her now. “That will pose a problem…but it is not an insurmountable one. Calm yourself, my dear. I’m not going to hurt you, I just need to utilize your…talents, for a little while. There is a war coming, you see, and I’m just dying to know where I stand in things to come.”

He knew about her gift? Shoulders stiffening, Lillie jerked to the side, following the voice as it continued to move.
“Well, that’s real nice…too bad that I’m not helping you see anything. So you can just let me go right now, buster.”

An arm snaked out and brought her stumbling back onto that familiarly hard chest. She could smell the faint musk of sweat and something…sweeter. The soft fur of some kind of coat brushed against her back and neck, and she cringed away from him, inhaling sharply as one large hand wrapped itself around her neck.

“Ah, fear…that is much better, my dear,” Her captor purred into her ear. She stopped struggling as the fingers around her neck tightened. A pressure at her back had her faltering forward, and she cringed again as the man’s hand brought her arm up. “You will paint for me, little prophet. I have all of the tools that you will need…as well as the usual threats. You watch television, yes? Then you will know what I am about to tell you.”

A hand wrapped itself in her hair, and with a cry tearing itself from her throat, her head was jerked up. Her fingers tightened around the smooth wood of the easel she’d been guided to and she gritted her teeth against the tears that burned the back of her eyes. She wouldn’t make a sound; wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

“If you don’t paint for me,” The voice growled, hand tightening on her hair until her scalp practically burned. “I will break every one of your fingers, so you’ll never hold a paintbrush again. Then I will kill your friend at your Gallery. After I’m done with him, I will kill your brothers, their wives, and their whelps. Finally, I will lock you in a tiny room, with only their severed heads for company, and I will leave you there until your mind is gone. None of us want that, my dear. So, I suggest you paint.”

And then, she was free. The arms binding her disappeared, taking with it the scent of stranger and the hateful words that followed it. Her hands swooped from side to side, fists still balled and a frustrated growl worked its way out of her chest as she found empty air. Good Lord, what the heck was this? She had to get out of here, before the crazy guy did what he said…because something deep down told her that he would indeed fulfill his promises.

Stumbling forward, she gritted her teeth against the urge to start screaming for release. Finally, her hands found the scratchy surface of what had to be a door. The handle was, of course, locked and she pounded her fists against the wood. Further exploration of the room gave her nothing but dirty palms and mold in her hair. There weren’t any windows in arm’s length, the door was locked, and the small sewage hole wasn’t big enough to fit her foot, forget her body. With another frustrated noise, she made her way back to the easel. She wouldn’t paint for the monster…especially not when her gifts didn’t work that way.

“I just have to wait him out,” She muttered to herself, feeling around the wall. “Pat will find me. Tyson will know something’s wrong when I don’t show up today, and the cavalry will come in.”

And Kyle will come, a voice whispered, soothing the panic settling into her stomach. She had no idea when she started feeling so…comfortable around a complete stranger, but the thought had her taking deep, calming breaths. She started to search the wall again, looking for something, ANYTHING to help her…

And cringed when her hands closed on a set of rusted manacles hanging from the wall. Good Lord, she was in a dungeon! A few more deep breaths were called for, and with a determined nod of her head, she locked one wrist into the longest shackle.

Ha, take that, kidnapper. She couldn’t paint if she couldn’t get to the easel, now could she?

[Corbin Muunokhoi]

My, what foolish creatures these mortals be, Corbin thought to himself as he watched his sparrow flutter around its gilded cage.

As one of the perks of having Fae blood in his veins, it was quite easy to step back from the quivering woman and place himself in the 'between place,' where reality and the unseen met. It was a useful ability, one that others called 'invisibility,' when it was really rather taking a step out of conciousness. He didn't have the full effect down, could only hold himself in that special place for a certain amount of time, thanks to his mixed blood...but it was enough to serve his purposes most of the time.

Not that it really mattered, here. Gods, one would think that a blind woman would have sensed him coming, in that little dwelling of hers. One of his warriors would have reacted accordingly, but she, poor little mortal, only flailed and wiggled in his arms until he convinced her panicked mind to sleep. Almost wistfully, he remembered a time when he thought himself to be as fallable as she; able to die, to fail, to blink out of existance with the right amount of time. Ah, his younger years, full of rabble rousing, pillaging and mutilation...

Blinking in surprise, the Dark Fae found himself staring at the now annoying human, his jaw going slack. Had she just SHACKLED herself to the WALL?! The urge to march over there and snap the rusted chain was too much to bear. The nerve of the woman! Hadn't he just threatened her life? The lives of her loved ones? What, did she think him a liar?

...Or did she have a paladin that she was waiting on to save the day? Interesting, very interesting.

He wouldn't kill her just yet. His research and his many spies had informed him that the cumpulsion to paint was too much for the frail little bird to handle. In time, she would sleep, and in doing so, she would dream of the future...what had better be his future. If not, he would take the right amount of action and, even if he had to hold her broken hands up to the easel, she would give him what he wanted.

And in the meantime...he would wait. Oh, it was going to be so much fun to break her.

------


Meanwhile, back in historic New Orleans, the sun proceeded to settle itself over the horizon. Light streamed steadily down onto the cooling pavement that ran through the city, and pedestrian traffic began to stream out onto the sidewalks. All in all, it was a normal beginning of a normal week.

Well, that is, if 'normal' covered a dozen police cars and a mob of angry Galleu's who swarmed down onto the Quarter like a plague.

Pat Galleau, the eldest of the five brothers, had recieved a panicked call from his sister's co-manager earlier that morning, saying that Lillie hadn't come into work. Given that he'd raised his younger siblings to value the art of a strict schedule and Lillie seemed to put stock in it more than any of them, warning bells had proceeded to scream in his head. In less than an hour, he'd spread the word to his brothers and they descended on the shop with a vengeance.

Nobody messed with their little sister without the Galleau Brothers having something to say about it. Tyson was sure that she'd slept in, as she'd been having problems with nightmares lately. This was news to Pat, which didn't make him at all happy, but they all hoped that it was the case. A bit of lock jimmy-ing and illegal B&R, however, gave them different results.

Pat knew his sister. Lillie always had a hang up about her eyes, ever since she'd been a kid. So, when they saw her favorite pair of sunglasses lying on the hallway table along with her cane? Red flags began flying like there was no tomorrow.

In less than an hour, he'd called in all of his favors with the local PD and the street was crawling with beat cops. Joe, the second eldest and the lawyer of the family, was making sure red tape was being cut without complaint, and both Nicky and Tomas were going through various doors, looking for signs of a break-in.

Dialing his sister's cell phone, Pat shaded his eyes from the mid-morning sun and listened to the low purr of static. Pick up, Lil, he thought frantically. When the message machine picked up, he cursed and shoved the phone into his pocket. His fellow cops were trying to convince him that she'd just gone off with friends, but his gut was telling him otherwise.

Something was really wrong, and his baby sister was in some kind of trouble. As such, he had to help her. With a commanding air, he ordered the surrounding cops to call her friends and canvas the surrounding houses.

You better be alright, little sister, He thought, jaw tightening as a slice of panic cut through him. God, please be alright...

[Kyle Aodhagán †]

The dragon leaned against the massive ancient tree as he watched the black sky turn to purple over the swamp, and then shades of lavender and ginger as the sky brightened with dawns early light.
Sleep had escaped him the evening before; his mind too consumed with thoughts of his wife, the child as he had always imagined him and then the image he had seen in the painting, but most of all it was the reflection of the artist that had birthed said painting that had his head swimming with inexplicable sentiments.

For so long he had been hardened to the emptiness that had taken up residency in his soul. The shifter used the emptiness as a shield with which to protect himself from the misery that for so long threatened to swallow him whole or turn him into a thing of evil.
But having met Lillie Galleau; the human with unseeing eyes and the heart as open as a book, it seemed as if her soul was the sun that chased away all the shadows within him.

It was as frightening as it was uplifting. For a man that hadn’t felt a single emotion in something like decades, the foreign sensations were like food to a starving man.
Kyle drank them in and took strength from them, and all the glorious, absolutely alarming vibrations that came along with it.
His body hummed with need as images of her beautiful face and supple curves raced through his mind, and his fingers craved a taste of her soft skin beneath their rough tips. He thirsted for a taste of her lips; his mouth going bone dry simply at the thought of a kiss.

But…as satisfying as all those feelings were, there was more…much more.

Honor and something reminiscent of covetous drove him to protect her, and anger swelled up within the breast as the realization that he could never taste her lips unless he meant to forsake her safety resonated heavily in his mind.
The dragon knew he would likely die fighting to keep the evil creatures of the otherworld from invading Lillie’s home, the mortal realm, and if not in that war, he would perish along with the witch whom he meant to escort to hell.

If the sorceress learned of any weakness he had; feelings for a human, she would definitely use them against the dragon, and Kyle wasn’t about to let her lay a hair on Lillie’s head.

That being the case, Kyle knew that he had to cut all ties with the prophet; to lay the charge of her guard in someone else’s capable hands…but not before saying goodbye.

The dragon was moving towards her home before his mind had even processed the decision.
It took him little time, for he hadn’t run so far away from her last night that he couldn’t hear if she called him back, an act that he would have no sooner been able to deny than if she’d asked him to describe the evening sky. But she did not call him back to her, and so, he had spent the night thinking of all the ways he would remember her visage.

Confusion came to Kyle’s face when he rounded the corner where the gallery stood and the building was surrounded by police cars and a swarm of on-lookers.
Trepidation crept into his bones like a winters kiss when he approached and saw the lovely Lillie no where among the mass of by standers.

“What is the meaning of this?!” He demanded of a young uniformed officer, grabbing him roughly by the arm and pulling him to a stop; a look of violent intent etched into his intense face should the detective tell him that the artist had been hurt in anyway.

It was then his gaze was diverted towards the panicked voice of the feminine co-manager he’d met before, and though his tone was hushed Kyle heard every word as he spoke of Lillie’s absence and her unanswered calls.

Letting the law man go, the dragon shouldered passed him; swift steps taking him into the structure that smelled like oil paint and strawberries and cream; Lillie.
The smell of her fear hung in the air like a noxious fume, and bile rose up in the shifters throat as it settled like a poison on the back of his tongue.

Grabbing the frame of the door, he clenched his jaw as mental pictures of the human struggling against some attacker played out behind closed eyes like a horror movie.
With those images came a fury so great that it burned through his blood like acid. Whoever had come into this place and removed her from the safety of its four walls would soon pay. Of that he was sure.

Kyle’s sapphire eyes came open with a start as he was hit by a familiar smell that wasn’t Lillie’s.

That scent…so familiar…but he couldn’t place it….

[Lillie Galleau]

With a groan, Lillie awoke and immediately wished that could have stayed unconscious. Her head was pounding, her butt was sore, her wrist was aching…why was her wrist aching? She really had to stop falling asleep in a contorted mess, for crying out loud! All of this waking up, feeling like she’d just been bitch slapped by a pro wrestler…

And the similarity between that waking and her previous one had all of the previous day’s events rushing back to her. Her butt was hurting because she was sitting in a dungeon, her wrist was aching because it was chained to the wall and her fingers were stinging because she was clutching a sharp rock.

But, more importantly, she’d been kidnapped.

Another groan escaped her as she pushed herself to her knees. Her shoulder ached almost as much as her wrist, from having to hold her weight during her little ‘nap.’ At some point after she’d shackled herself to the wall to prevent the prophet-thing from happening, she’d managed to fall asleep from pure lack of adrenaline. She dropped the rock on the floor and stood, gently feeling around the manacle for a catch.

With her luck, she’d just chained herself to the wall for all eternity, and never get the chance to escape. Not that she had found any means in her search earlier. Some tugging and chain-pounding confirmed her suspicion, and she let her forehead drop against the moldy stone with a frustrated growl.

Only her. For crying out loud, she’d just done her dang kidnappers a favor! However, before she could continue her mental tirade, the sounds of a lock clicking open had her freezing where she stood.

Her face was pointed at the sound of approaching footsteps, and she tensed, waiting for the evil man to speak. There was silence for a few minutes, unfamiliar breathing becoming oddly rapid.

“What is this? I give you paints and you resort to scratchings?” The man’s voice snapped out, charging the already tense atmosphere with something deadly.

What the heck was he talking about? ‘This?’ She shifted her weight slightly to the side, wishing that she hadn’t dropped that sharp rock. He was obviously insane, talking about ‘scratching…’ as if she had any idea what that mea—

Her foot slid over curling grooves in the floor beneath her, and she suddenly knew. Good God, she must have fallen asleep, had a dream and, in the absence of her paints, went for the nearest tool available. She didn’t remember anything of it; did her gift rule her so insistently? But, with one touch of her big toe to the etchings in the cobble, she knew what her kidnapper was looking at: the face of a snarling werewolf.

She could see it in her minds eye; big, hairy, red eyed and bloody mouthed. Red, syrupy saliva dripped from similarly red-tipped canines and its furry ears were laid back in a horrifying show of anger. Goosebumps appeared on her arms and she took a step back, the chain around her wrist clanking quietly. She kept herself quiet while her kidnapper’s footsteps drew closer.

“I see that you need some more convincing, my little prophet,” The voice was closer now, dripping with anger. Anxiety and fear knotted her belly, and she let loose a startled noise when the shackle on her wrist suddenly disappeared.

Almost immediately, she missed its rusted weight.

With another growl, the man moved even closer. A hand whipped out and closed around her other wrist in a bruising grip, yanking her forward. She tried her best to fight him, doing as her brothers had taught her- aim for the throat, the eyes, the groin- but he moved too fast, blocking her every blow. A slap had her head jerking to the side, pain exploding across her cheek. She tasted blood in her mouth. With another snarl, he forced her onto her knees, and she cried out at the jarring thud.

“Do you remember what I told you?” He snarled into her ear. He tucked her right arm under his, ignoring the blows she landed about his head and shoulders. “I suppose not, given your actions. I told you that I wanted you to tell me the future of this world…MY future! And you draw this? Let me show you what happens when you displease me!”

As she struggled and pounded against his back with her free hand, her kidnapper separated the pinky ring finger of her right hand. A shot of adrenaline poured through her, the knowledge of what he was about to do making her fight all the harder. She used her nails, her fist, her teeth…but he didn’t seem to care.

With a little twist of his wrist, the fragile bones of her fingers snapped in two. She screamed as white hot pain burst through her hand, traveling up her arm with a gnawing force. It burned and burned and oh GOD, he’d broken her fingers! Oh GOD!

She collapsed onto her elbows as he released her, the movement causing another shiver of pain to crawl up her arm. Moaning and rocking, she cradled her injured hand to her chest. Tentative fingers found their two broken brethren bent backward, and she let loose another scream.

“I’ll break the others, if you don’t show me what I want to see,” The voice spoke again, chillingly calm. “And then, your loved ones are next.”

Another slap had her flying sideways, landing on her wounded side. Yet another scream clawed at her throat as she fell on her wounded hand, and she felt the bones snap again.
Then, thankfully, there was darkness.

[Corbin Muunokhoi]

Gods, these humans were such little fools. With a dispassionate expression on his face, Corbin looked down at the limp form of his caged bird. She'd been so alluring in her element; soft, serene, beautiful. He'd enjoyed venturing out of the stronghold to follow her, using the natural invisibility of his people to gain access to her world. It was almost disappointing that her other, heightened senses hadn't alerted her to his presence, but she was human, after all. It was foolish of HIM to think her capable of anything but ignorance.

But oh, the sounds she'd made as he'd broken those fragile fingers- really, he had no idea what the dragon saw in her; those brittle bones and irritating mortality...how could one have fun with THAT?- were the real music to his ears. It had been so long since he'd sated his need to cause pain and hear the beautiful melody of a scream. He used to enjoy it daily, using that hidden room in the tower of his stronghold as a playground for his dark appetites.

Not that said appetites were as strong as they used to be, that is. While the prophet was the epitome of his usual toy, causing her pain just wasn't as enjoyable as it would have been a year ago. Something was muffling the experience; something stronger than his craving for blood was making that evil part of his soul thirst for another delight.

I.e., he was lusting after his witch. The little woman had no idea the changes she was wreaking in his soul, day after day. She thought that he was unaffected and cold...but he was losing interest in the things that used to give him pleasure, in favor of her own, alluring company. Good Gods, even now, he wanted to go back to his castle and taste her on his tongue, that sweet scent wrapped around him. Instead of pursuing his torture session with the prophet, all he wanted to do was claim his woman.

How...unexpected the realization was. Unexpected...and strangely comforting.

With a disgusted sigh, the Dark Fae picked up the unconcious woman as if she weighed nothing, carrying her under one arm as he made his way to the easel. He dropped her unceremoniously onto the floor, smirking at the pained moan that followed. Today's lesson would have her fearful; anticipating more pain if she failed to do his bidding. The question was; was she ready to sacrifice herself and her family to defy him?

Of course not. No one defied Corbin Muunokhoi. And if she did...well, it would be a shame to kill her. It wasn't every day that a prophet fell into his lap.

With a wide, shark-like smile, he raised his hand toward the scarred door and ripped open reality. With a sucking noise, a portal appeared and, on the other side, his bedchamber. Anticipation crawled through him as he pictured the firey witch in his mind, something akin to happiness flooding his veins.

He would get what he needed from the prophet in time. Now, it was time to bask in the presence of his mate.


-----


“Detective Galleau!” A voice cut through the low rumble of conversation around him, causing him to jerk forward in surprise. Running toward them was a young beat cop; familiar face, but the name alluded him. The urgency in his voice had a spark of anticipation shooting through him and he shoved through the little throng of uniforms to get at the kid.

“What is it?” He couldn’t help the thickness of his voice. God, please say he’d found something! Or did he want anything to be found? Memories of other cases, other women flashed into his mind, and he gritted his teeth. No, his sister wasn’t dead. He wouldn’t be looking at her expressionless, lifeless face in the morgue as he searched for her killer. NO.

Skidding to a halt, the kid pointed a finger at the house, voice holding a panicked note. “Some random guy just barged through the tape and into the house! Officer Miles tried to stop him, but he’s pretty big.”

Suspicion flashed through his mind, and he immediately moved forward toward the house. Criminals liked to come back to the scene of their crimes, the cop in him whispered. Did the guy have something to do with his sister’s disappearance?

“YOU. Stop right there and put your hands where I can see them!” Hand on his piece, he stalked into the room where the stranger stood. The soft clump of shoes on pavement brought with it his fellow officers, fanning out in a half circle behind him. “Who the hell are you, and what the hell are you doing in this house?”

Before he could pull his gun, Tyson appeared beside him. The poor guy looked as panicked as he felt.
“Wait!” He squawked, waving his hands around. God, please say that the newbies were outside, and wouldn’t twitch at the jerking movements and shoot someone by mistake. “That guy’s okay! He’s Lillie’s friend…Kyle. He came in the other day and Lillie seemed happy to see him.”

Suspicion revved itself up as he kept his eyes on the man. Kyle…yeah, he’d heard that name in one a phone call. She’d been so excited, having been to her first bar. He’d been furious, threatening to come down there and make sure she didn’t kill herself, but hearing the utter happiness in her voice, there hadn’t been much heat to it. She’d said that she’d met a ‘very nice man named Kyle who showed her how to drink tequila and kept her safe on the dance floor.’ For the first time in a while, his sister had sounded animated…girlish, even.

But that didn’t stop him from eyeing the stranger with obvious distrust. With a nod at the officers at his back, he waited for the room to clear, until the only ones left were himself, the big guy ‘Kyle,’ and the rest of the Galleau clan. Nicky and Joe were standing to either side of him, arms crossed over their chests, while Tommy collapsed onto a nearby couch.

“If you have any idea where Lillie is,” He said, doing his best to keep his voice level. “It’d be a good idea to tell us now.”

[Marissa Skye ☀]

I don't wanna be saved, i don't wanna be sober
i want you on my mind, in my dreams,
behind these eyes that i wanna wake up,
no not this time.
I breathe you in again just to feel you..
underneath my skin, holding onto..
the sweet escape, is always laced with a familiar taste of poison..a familiar taste of poison, a familiar taste... of poison



Sprawled out on her stomach in the middle of the bed of furs, Rissa stared at her newly painted nails and frowned. Tilting her head a bit to this side and that, she sighed. No No, this color just wouldn't do. It was to very... Pink. Not that she didn't like Pink but it was such a frilly color and didn't really fit her mood. Maybe something darker....Corbin did so like that crimson color that looked so much like blood.

Capping the offending shade of polish, she tossed it across the room and then place her chin in a palm. She was thoroughly, utterly bored again but she knew she didn't dare trace out in case Corbin decided to come home again. The last time she'd done so, he'd about had conniptions and she wasn't real anxious to repeat that. Several unfortunate shifters had lost their lives that day and Rissa didn't want to be responsible for any more. Maybe she could prod Drake into losing his cool again instead.... Or maybe get Danger too....

With her thoughts lost in mischievous contemplation, the young fae almost missed the shift in the atmosphere of the room that foretold the arrival of another. It was only a sixth sense of danger that caused her to glance up in time to see her lover appear as if out of nowhere.

Blinking rapidly at him, she eyed Corbin questioningly and then saw the look in his eye. It was a look she'd come very accustomed to and made her all warm and fuzzy inside. It was also one she hadn't seen much of lately since he'd been off making his planes with his army and punishing her for her little trip to town with his absence.

Speaking of which... She was really going to tell him about her discovery soon. She wasn't sure how much longer she could disguise her growing powers and now that the truth of her parentage was out of the bag, so to speak, they were escalating by leaps on bounds.

When she'd thought herself a mere witch, it was bad enough. Now that she had discovered that she was a Fae Princess... it was as if Hover dam had exploded and all the powers that had been locked away were suddenly flooding through her blood. It was only a matter of time before the vibe caught her lovers attention and made him start thinking.

Deciding not to dwell on that worry for the moment, the petite blond bounced to her feet and ran to meet him. Throwing herself full force at him, she had every faith that he would catch her and squeeled with glee.

"Ello, my handsome lover. Have you come to free me from the wicked gent that holds me captive? I should warn you.. I hear tell that he's very possessive and tends to kill those who try." she teased in a bright tone before tossing her arms around him and kissing him lightly. "Although he has been awfully preoccupied lately... Mayhap you stand a chance of whisking me away...."

[Kyle Aodhagán †]

Kyle recognized the face staring back at him even before the man uttered a word. He saw the same subtle angles within the expression and the almond shaped eyes that Lillie possessed, though whereas hers were an opalescent white, his were vibrant; the hue made even more intense by the anger and worry in them.
The human was joined by others with the same familiar appearance, and for the briefest moment Kyle’s heart stilled in his chest as he gazed on Lillie’s family. Her family.
The shifter had never known siblings, and he marveled at the powerful sensation of fierce protectiveness and grief that poured out of them all.

The dragon nodded a quiet thanks to Tyson, grateful that the man had been there to damper an already explosive situation; for if the brother of the prophet had thought Kyle the kidnapped and used the weapon his fingers itched at even now, the shifter would have been unable to stop himself with reacting with the same violence, if only to protect himself.

The dragon’s anger was insurmountable. To think, if he’d only stayed a little longer…if he hadn’t run from the woman like a frightened and hard-headed child, at least until another had been dispatched to protect her, Lillie might not have fallen victim to whomever had dared to snatch her from her home.

“If I knew of any information I would waste no breath before passing word to your ear.” Kyle answered solemnly and moved to where Lillie’s scent was the most concentrated.
The lingering aroma of her fear hit him as a heavy weight in the chest. Harsh and bitter, it prickled the fine hairs on his arms and the back of his neck and brought on a wave of near nausea.
The other scent was thick and caustic; the smell of evil, which drove the dragon so close to losing control he had to ball his hands into fists and clench his jaw to keep from roaring out in rage.

So familiar…but he couldn’t place it. The dragon was positive it was someone that knew of him; had probably followed him to this very door.
Kyle reached out to gingerly finger the dark glasses which had recently been perched on the tip of her delicate nose, and he let out a heavy sigh, drawing the hand back as if it had burned him.
No doubt some how the captor knew of the female’s prophetic ability, though he wondered at how that knowledge had gotten any further than those on the council. Surely none of them would put the artist at risk by divulging her name and gift to any outside of the group. To do so would have knowingly put a human in danger and that was against the laws of the commission.

Then dragon was unable to keep the low growl from slipping past his lips as he turned back to the brothers. His eyes were radiant azure and distant as he saw not the tastefully decorated room around him, but a gentle woman in the bowels of some underworld surrounded by drooling, hungry creatures.
May the gods help those that took her, for he meant to cause them pain the likes of which they had never imagined.
Blinking his vision clear he addressed the brother that had spoke previously. He would never put the mortal in harms way by telling him of the risk Lillie might be in, but his diligent searching would be a definite assistance.

“Rest assured that next time you lay eyes on Lillie she will be unharmed. Words of her safety will fall from her tongue to your ear. I will make sure of it when I find her…and I -will- find her.”
There could be no disputing the certainty of the shifter’s spoken vow, nor the conviction in his expression.

He moved to leave, a determined look etched in to his troubled brow. Kyle needed air; distance between he and the humans so he could let out the fierce war cry that was perched on the very tip of his tongue.

The anger he felt was not only directed at those who had taken the female, but within, for he was as much to blame as any.
She had made real her dreams for years and years before he had come along and no pain had come to her save the ache that seeped into her head when she tried to forsake the gift.
And then he had met her, and the villains had crept in behind like shadows on a brilliant day.

This was what the fates had always intended. He was made to suffer for his emotions, in the past, and now, in the present.
If that was the case he would bleed them out of his wounds and abandon them forever. But he would find her. He would find her.

[Lillie Galleau]

God, but she hurt. Every muscle, every patch of skin, every bone, sinew and piece of cartilege seemed to scream as she slowly returned to reality. She was lying face down on the foul smelling floor, half of her face in a puddle of stale water. A slow twitch of her muscles had her biting the inside of her cheek as pain raced up her arm.

That's right, the bastard had broken her fingers. The horror of finding those well used appendages bent backwards had a whimper echoing in the room, and she bit her lip once again. Her face felt hot, swollen and her knees and elbows stung where she'd gone down. But her most pressing problem were her fingers.

They needed to be set...but set by what? She could use the paint brushes at her side- she could smell the oil from where she lay- but it probably wouldn't be a good idea. Her kidnapper had snapped when he'd seen her scratchings on the floor; how would he react if she used his tools to set her hand?

Badly, that's how. She would use those hard things that she'd tripped over before. The...bones, she thought with a gulp. But anything would be better than the dull throbbing in her fingers, and certainly better than losing them to blood clots when she was rescued. And she WOULD be rescued. He would come for her, and everything would be alright.

Crawling toward the pile of bones she'd found earlier, her trauma-shocked mind circled around that thought. 'He' would save her. Not her brothers, not the police, not her friends out in the supernatural community...just him. Kyle. The dragon-man who had pulled her in and pushed her away so thoroughly.

She had a champion, she couldn't help but giggle. Just leave it to her Victorian-novel-loving mind to come up with that one. How funny!

...And how NOT FUNNY it was to press the fine bones of another person's fingers against her own. She bit down on the neck of her dress to muffle her screams, and with a clumsy hand, managed to secure them with a ribbon of cloth. The pain was so intense that she found herself sagging to the ground.

Unconciousness loomed and she welcomed it. Please, please be without dreams, she thought frantically, sinking to the bottom of a cool, deep pond. At least until he came for her.

[Corbin Muunokhoi]

With hungry eyes, Corbin drank in the sight of his woman, standing there, so innocent as she blinked at him. Her face was like a child’s; so clear and pure that it sometimes made him wonder how she could stand to be around a dark little thing like him. Or, hell, how he could bear to be around her. There was no doubt that she disliked his…methods at times, just adding to their opposite natures. Where she was soft, he was hard. Where she preferred mercy and forgiveness, he was much more taken with the love of blood on his hands.

They were completely different creatures with completely different wants. How they had not rebelled against one another, he had no idea. Hellfire, he should want to kill her; to taint that innocence with his own, darker aura. He supposed that his close proximity to her was enough to do just that…but at the same time, there was a part of him that cherished her light. It was a sun in his shadowed night.

And he would rather destroy himself than lose her. When had that happened? The realization had him pausing to examine the ache in his chest that surged through him as he gazed at her across the room. He hated being away from her; hated his mission’s taking away time spent with her. He missed her voice, her scent, her touch, her taste…

Gods, when did HE, of all people, become a sentimental fool? If there was anything worse for a man who could practically taste world domination on his tongue, it would be this…attachment.

Yet, he couldn’t help but feel it. As disgustingly poetic as it sounded, he had indeed found another part of himself that he never knew was missing.
Until now.

And Gods if it didn’t come at a worse time.

With a frustrated growl surging through his chest, Corbin caught her as she flung herself at him, wrapping muscled arms around her. With just one touch, he felt the his previous anger at his ‘guest’ melt away, and couldn’t help the smirk of amusement as that melodic voice proceeded to make fun of him.

His little tease. She really was the only person in existence whom he would let say such things and not lose their head.

“You poor little witch,” He cooed in her ear, running his tongue along the rim. “To be treated so harshly. Rest assured; I will treat you much better than that dastardly lover of yours.”

He pulled back to grin at her, his harsh face all angles in the sunlight streaming from the windows. With a growl, he captured her lips with his, a groan escaping him. Gods, he missed her while she was away; she had no idea how much. He tried his best to hide his feelings, ashamed of the weakness that they provoked.

But she had bewitched him. He knew not how…but she had.
And truthfully? He could care less.



--------
Almost every instinct in the elder Galleau brother’s began screaming at the dark look on the stranger’s face. Just who the hell had his sister gotten herself involved with? There was a bloodthirsty, wrathful look in the guy’s face that he knew all too well, having seen it in the mirror once or twice over the years, when a case went sour or a perp managed to walk free.

But this guy…he was enraged of his sister. What the hell was going on here?

His speech was strange, and Pat couldn’t help but narrow his eyes at the man, his brothers tensing behind him. When that strange ass growl worked itself out, it was all he could do to stop himself from reaching for his gun.

“What the hell do you mean that YOU’RE going to find her? Look, buddy, if you know anything about where she is, you’d better tell us right—WHAT THE FUCK? Where the hell does he think he’s going?!”

Turning, the officer charged after the larger man, anger spiking as he reached out a hand to make a grab. Damn asshole, thought that he’d go all Lone Ranger? What if he was involved? What if HE was the reason why Lillie was kidnapped? What if his actions got her hurt? HELL if he hadn’t pulled his little sister out of depression after Mom and Dad’s accident, raised her to accept her blindness, loved her like no one else in his goddamn life and have some vigilante butt-fuck go anywhere with guns blazing, getting her caught in the goddamn crossfire! Where the hell did the guy get off that—

A hand came out to grab his wrist before he could catch ‘Kyle’s’ arm. A snarl was on his face as he whirled, but it immediately disappeared as his younger brother’s face came into view. Tommy, the youngest of the Galleau men, gave a firm shake of his head, signaling for him to let the guy go. While his brother was both lazy and slightly insane, the man had gut instincts like none he’d ever seen.

And he was telling him to let Kyle find his sister. Something was seriously fucked up with that.

“Let him go, Pat,” His brother said, voice soft. “My gut’s telling me that he might keep his word. We’ll keep looking on our own, okay?”

He growled, jerking his hand away. With narrowed eyes, he watched the shifter’s retreating back, hands fisting at his sides.
“I just hope you didn’t let a killer go after her, Tommy,” He said with a shake of his head. “’Cause my gut’s telling me that he’s going to be more dangerous than the guy who took her…”

[Marissa Skye ☀]

I want your drama
The touch of your hand
I want you leather studded kiss in the sand
And I want your love
Love-love-love,I want your love
Love-love-love,I want your love
You know that I want you
And you know that I need you
I want a bad,your bad romance
I want your loving
And I want your revenge
You and me could write a bad romance
I want your loving
All your lover's revenge
You and me could write a bad romance

Her lover had been brooding..... again.... and about something besides world domination. Marissa could tell immediately by the stiffness in Corbin's posture that something had been bothering him. The dark air that shimmered around him glowed almost sinisterly black and it should have been enough to scare the hell out of any normal person.

Good thing for him that his little nymph wasn't anyone's idea of normal.

For some reason she couldn't quiet put her finger on, Rissa fancied it her sacred duty to lighten that very darkness and her every desire was to wipe away the frown he so often wore. Luckily for them both, it seemed to work.

Ok, so yeah.. Maybe she had a secret suicide wish... So what if it was like poking a caged lion with a six inch stick? At least if his attention was fixed on her he wasn't planning the death and torture of another, right? Some little bell in the back of her mind rang alarms at that thought but Rissa didn't pay it any heed. Her mind was already rushing forward with thoughts of how she could distract her beast. Oh yeah, she was definitely a few sandwiches short of a picnic, her inner self thought with a sigh.

The moment she pounced on him and almost toppled them both to the floor, the tension seemed to leave his form and his dark eyes lightened just a bit. The little nymph was delighted to see it and and when his growly voice spoke to toss her teasing words back at her, her own sapphire depths gleamed with mischief.

The kiss that followed had her moaning with delight but she pushed him back to dance away a few feet. Her expression was deliberately provocative as she eyed him up and down before putting a finger to her chin in mocking thoughtfulness.

"Hmmmm.... I don't know...How do I know you are any better than he? For all his temper, he's extremely handsome and makes my toes curl.... Do you think you can manage that feat? Its a tough job..."

Knowing she was playing with fire, the little fae moved to put a chair between them as she teased. Her actions were designed to tempt and distract because she sensed Corbin was needing action . The tremor of energy she felt flowing between them made her want to challenge him and make him work for what they both no doubt wanted. Her lover just wasn't the sort that appreciated anything that came easy and Rissa made it her goal never to give him what he expected. It was also what made their relationship so different than others.

"And if I were to allow you to steal me away...Where would you take me so that he'd never find us? I'm not sure there is such a place.... My lover is a fierce creature.... I don't think he would rest until he found us and eternity is a long time to be on the run.... There isn't enough distance in the world to keep him from tracking us..... "

Even as those words slipped off her tongue, Rissa suddenly felt a wave of unease. They seemed to ring in the room so prophetic that a shiver of alarm went up her back. It startled her so badly that she fell quiet and stared across the room at Corbin in shock. The feeling that pooled in her stomach made her almost physically sick.

What on earth?

It was the first time in their relationship that something seemed... wrong.... She suddenly had a vision of herself without him and it made her recoil with a ferocity that sent her crumbling to the floor. Everything in her shouted at her to beware of ... something... but she couldn't put her finger on just what she was suppose to be afraid of. The only thing she knew was something was very, very wrong and whatever it was would pull her away from him.... SOON.

[Corbin Muunokhoi]

A growl was his only answer as he held her tight against him, pushing his hips against hers. His hands were firm on the small of his back, pushing her closer, and he let loose another lust-filled rumble, letting his lips trail over the delicate curve of her neck. How easy it would be to wrap a hand around it and hear those small bones break. To take her life, as he had countless others, and feel her body grow cold in his arms. A year ago, he would have delighted in the chaos; used her body as he would, and discarded her like garbage. He would hear her tortured screams and they would ground him to reality, keeping the insanity away…just for a little longer.

Yet, there he was, holding her close and secure against his body like a good lover should. It was baffling, this change in him.

And speaking of change; he could sense something…different about her. Something intriguing, he thought with a slight raise of a brow…but, then again, when was his woman ever not intriguing him? There was a glow to her skin and a twinkle in her eyes that had nothing to do with sexual awareness, but surprisingly, his paranoia didn’t surface.

It was almost like a part of him was receiving a call. His dark soul, that black power that had given him life, was answering some sort of covenant. Was it just the wolf form he preferred to use, recognizing his mate? Gods forbid…but it could just be something as useless. Though, on a primal level, he knew that it had to be something more.

Before he could get the chance to follow the odd sensation to its source, something happened. Silently, as if all of the strength had been sapped from her body, she fell limp in his arms. Surprise had him following her to the floor, but he cradled her weight against his chest, taking most of the impact on his own knees.

“Marissa?” He barked, voice cold but, to those who knew it well enough, sporting enough concern to be unusual for the savage Fae. “Marissa, what is wrong? Speak to me, my love. What ails you? DRAKE! CALL THE PHYSICIAN!”

The resounding bellow echoed through the chamber. He smoothed her hair gently from her face, cradling her in his arms. None of his men could see him like this, an evil voice whispered in the back of his mind. If Drake saw, if the physician saw…but no, his mate was in danger. Appearances could wait.

…Couldn’t they?

He gritted his teeth against the urge to let her remain on the floor, useless as she was in this state. But that calling…that strange sensation that he’d sensed before; it was keeping him on his knees. His other half was in need, and he had to respond.

With a gentle shake of her shoulders, he forced his voice not to growl. “Tell me what is wrong, my witch. I will fix it for you.”

[Marissa Skye ☀]

Oh God, Oh God, OH GOD.

With an indescribable feeling of doom, Marissa started to shiver. Blackness swirled around her as her senses were overrode by her inner magic. Oh, no... no, no, no, No, NO! Whatever was going on, she had a sick feeling she didn't want to know. The lightness she'd always had protecting her seemed to be strangling against a tide of darkness that wrapped thin trindles around her mind.

Vaguely, she heard Corbin's voice calling her and felt his arms catch her in a protective hold but suddenly flashes of visions were all that filled her blank sight. Pictures of a white throne room filled with beautiful people and herself sitting on that very pedestal. Images of those same people bowing before the throne and her newly found father standing on her right side while a nameless man stood on her left. Another of herself dressed in fancy armored garb with a white sword in her hand.

Through out these all though.. One main piece was missing.

Corbin.

Even as that occurred to her, more visions seemed to dance in her head. The image of a similar, darker chamber flashed to her even the sinister magic that dwelled there made her want to recoil. The chambers inhabitants snarled and sneered around a huge, ebony seat and as her eyes traveled to the thing, she saw her lover seated with a satisfied smirk. In that moment, Rissa knew that the battle to be waged would be against the insanity she saw in his eyes. Insanity brought on by the darkest of magics and held at bay only by love and light.

The very things she herself held within her but Corbin could destroy. Maybe already had.

As her vision swirled with this new knowledge, Rissa knew that something had happened. Something that Corbin had done had set into motion a tide of events that would forever change all their lives. Events that would rip them apart and change their relationship from one of simple desire and budding love to a game of power where the winner took all.

Coming back to reality, the young Fae trembled in his embrace and allowed her eyes to close. Instinct told her she could not let him know exactly what she'd forseen until she'd had time to think upon it. She had to figure out exactly what it all meant before she reacted. For the moment though, she clung to him desperately and ached with the inner knowledge that she would soon have to leave him.

"I'm fine, my love..." she tried to reassure him. "I just felt faint for a moment is all.... "

Ok, so that sounded lame to her ears too but what was a girl to do when she was trying to hide the truth of the matter? There was no way in hell she was going to tell him what she knew.

"So... where were we again?? I believe you were going to show me just how much you missed me??"

[Marissa Skye ☀]

Corbin:

She was hiding something; the thought echoed in his mind as he held her close. A shaking sigh of relief escaped him as those beautiful eyes turned to his face, coherent once again, and he couldn't stop himself from smoothing back the hair from her face tenderly. Oh, how easily she had wormed herself into his life, into his heart. He cursed the day that his minions had brought her to him...yet didn't. He railed against the emotions she stirred in him...yet embraced them. He was full of contradictions; drowning in two different warring sides of his soul, and he bit back a snarl that surged forth at her obvious deception.

She was lying to him; telling him that she was alright, using her wiles to distract him. His darker half, that insane little voice that sounded so much like the father he'd never known, craved the truth. He wanted to know what she'd seen, what had harmed her, so that he could crush it under his boot heel; retribution for his beloved. The other half, however, wanted nothing to do with the vision that had her paling so...and brought that look of caution to her face as she looked at him.

Caution and...fear? Was that a whiff of that sweet scent in the air? What was making his witch afraid? He practically shook with the need to hurt, to avenge, and with a low growl, he shoved her away and scooted back, on his knees and gritting his teeth.

Hurt her, protect her, avenge her, GET THE TRUTH! It was a whirlwind in his mind; whispering voices, demands, WHY WAS SHE LYING? Gods, ignore them, just ignore. He was no good to his Queen if he were shaking like a babe...Queen? And what, exactly, was he King of? Too much, too soon...attention on the woman!

"Gods avenge!" He snarled in his native tongue, shoving himself to his feet. Like a curtain being drawn, he shoved those damning emotions to the back of his head, forcing himself to calm. Calm...he was not the one who had just fainted. But the worry, the hurt, the DECEPTION...no, no, he wouldn't think about that. Marissa Skye had been in pain; not him. His attention would be on her.

Without answering her question, he scooped her up in his arms and turned on his heel, heading for the bed. The sounds of the chamber door opening brought with it the curious scents of his soldiers, and- finally- he was able to use some of that pent up emotion. Over his shoulder, he snarled out an animal-like command for privacy, and the door shut with a snap. Facing his witch, his face was once again an unemotional mask.

"I don't like being lied to, my love," He said finally, voice low, dripping with sweet malice. "Tell me what happened. If you are ill, I will send for a doctor. If someone has harmed you...I will kill them slowly. Do not lie to me, my witch, my love," Gently, he smoothed her hair and leaned forward to lightly kiss her lips.

'Or I might have to kill you, too,' he silently added. The monster in his soul clapped with delight, as the man screamed in fury. Torn...Gods, he was torn asunder. To kill, or to love...to hurt, or to trust? He'd lived a life with only the former; did he even understand the meaning of those other words?


Marissa

Ok, her little attempt at distraction so hadn't worked. Corbin's expression tore at her even as her inner voice whispered for caution

As much as she wanted to tell him everything... For some reason, she just couldn't quiet still the part of her that urged her to keep silent. Where this new hesitation was coming from she wasn't sure but as he shoved her away and seemed to wage an inner war, her unease escalated. This was a side of her lover that seemed to be growing closer and closer to the surface each day and she never knew if he would be able to pull himself out of it.

Suddenly, she saw him pull it together and then she was swept up in his arms. Burying her face in his chest, she felt herself placed on the witch and heard the snarl he sent to whatever unsuspecting were that had dared respond to his earlier summons. At any other time it would have made her laugh but she was to heart sick at the moment to even summon a smile. A few moments later, she was forced to look up into Corbins swirling dark eyes and what she saw there made her flinch.

By all the saints in heaven... He'd seen through her words and knew she'd lied to him.

Closing her eyes for a moment, Rissa let go of her powers for a moment and tried to read Corbins' emotions. Darkness swirled with the flickers of light even as the blackness seemed to expand and consume. The feeling made her want to cringe but she forced her eyes open and meet his gaze directly. She would have to handle this delicately or the monster within his mind might seize control over the man she'd come to adore.

"I honestly don't know, Corbin... I saw us being seperated and much space between us... I don't know what it means but it scares me. Something tells me that things are about to change but I don't know why. I'm afraid that I'm going to lose you and it terrifies me that the vision might come to pass..." she returned softly, carefully. "I see myself in a roomful of people who all expect something of me but what I do not know... "

Reaching up, she rubbed her face and felt tears prick at her eyes. What she said and what she'd seen surely where just imaginations of an idle mind. After all, she had no plans of actually doing what her father wanted and she was perfectly happy to stay with her lover as long as he wanted her.

Just then, Marissa caught a funny scent and she sniffed. Perfume? What on earth? Blinking, she sniffed again and realized that the scent was coming off of Corbin himself.

With eyes widening, she stared hard at him for a long moment and then felt hurt creep into her eyes.

"Corbin....... Why do you smell like another woman?"



Corbin:

So, she had had a vision. Whispers of another such talented woman flitted across his mind, but he shoved it away. His witch wasn't a prophet; he would have known it by now, given their close proximity. She couldn't hide something as vital as that...or had he let his tumbling emotions cloud his judgement? Was she hiding more from him than she seemed?

However, before he could get into depth with those thoughts, she spoke and something tightened around his heart. He didn't like hearing that helpless tone of her voice; it disgusted him and made him want to hold her close. He gave into the latter urge, pulling her up against his chest so that he could gently pet her back, run his palms over her neck and shoulders. That fragile neck, soft, soft skin...he could lose himself in her, if he wasn't careful. He could cherish her too much.

"What you saw was a lie," He murmured, nuzzling his face into the curve of her neck. Ah, she smelled so good...like the forest after it rained. Slowly, as if being beaten back, the darkness in his mind retreated. Oh, blessed silence! Blessed warmth! Instinctively, he found himself pressing closer; sheltering her in his arms.

"You will not lose me. I would kill any who parts us." Finally, he looked down at her, a confused expression on his face as he tried to piece together what he felt. There was anger at the thought of being seperated from him, sadness and fear of losing her...what was all of this? He relied on no one; the Muunokhoi did not rely on anyone! But he couldn't let her go, and basked in the light that chased away the insanity in his mind. She was sunshine, she was warmth. How could he ever let her go?

And would he survive if she left?

"We will face this vision together and change it," He said solemnly, a vow to her. Surprise flickered onto his face at the abrupt change of conversation, and he frowned. The mood was broken, the emotions put back to sleep. She was questioning his whereabouts?

Slowly, he pulled back from her. The hurt in her eyes seared him, and he was further confused by their origins. "You are hurt," He said, brows furrowing as he watched her. "Why? You know that I would not lay with a woman who was not you. The scent is merely a...guest in this house. She will perform a task for me, or she will die. As with any of my soldiers."



Marissa:

Frowning, Marissa stared into Corbins eyes for a long moment before nodding. He was telling her the truth and her inner self nodded. However, the ease with which he spoke of the other woman made her sad. Curling into him, she let her fingers trailed down his chest and bit her bottom lip. It was times like these that she wondered exactly where she stood in his balance of wants and needs even though she had no doubts that he would definitely kill anyone who tried to seperated them. What she didn't know is if that meant she was just a possession to him or if his feelings for her were genuine.

"Lets not talk of killing anyone tonight, my lover... I don't wish to think about any more unpleasantness...I admit to being rattled about the strange vision but you are right... It had to be a lie" she whispered out as she laid her head on his shoulder once more.


Ok, so maybe her heart of hearts knew that it hadn't been a lie but Marissa knew better than to gainsay Corbin. He had such a tentitive hold on his sanity that she did her best to help him withstand the darkness when she could. Any insistance on her part that things weren't what they shoudl be would only lead to another break.

Deciding to distract him with other things, she pulled away to kiss him hard. Ok, so maybe it wasn't just a distraction for him. Maybe it was a wee bit for herself too. She needed the feel of him against her to block out the growing fear in her heart. She wanted to breath him into her lungs until his scent was permenantly etched on her memory. Why she felt that way, she could only attribute to the vision that was still so clear in her mind.

"Lets us not talk at all anymore.... Let's have a conversation of another sort." she whispered huskily to him as she threaded her fingers threw his hair and all other thoughts dissapeared.