~ Gift or Curse ~
by Blackgrl71

Author's Notes: See Part 1.

Chapter 3

Many say that all magic began in the Faerie Mound in Ireland. From Necromancers to Shapeshifters, and Goblins, their humble beginnings began with the Fey. Once worshipped by man as gods, the devout lost faith, infighting between the Seelie and Unseelie Court practically tore the world apart. This was the 'beginning of the end' for them as the humans instituted a UN Law exiling them from their lands. Until American President Thomas Jefferson granted them asylum.

This unrest between the Fey began to swallow their magic. Important magical relics disappeared, many Fey lost essential pieces of their magic; like a Demi-Fey losing its wings. Even The Mound began dying. Swallowed by the mundane. There's a saying, if the Mound goes, than all things magical go with it. The Goddess Danu no longer favored the Faerie - perhaps she felt they'd lost their way, no longer fit to serve magic in all its glory. This included fertility, as the Mound grew barren, so too did the Faerie.

This created enormous pressure on the Fey's rulers: Queen Andais, the Unseelie Queen of Air & Darkness and King Taranis, the Seelie King of Light and Illusion because their subjects wanted them to bring magic back to the Mound. By extension their own magic would return, magic that made each Fey unique, magic that had been missing for centuries like a body without a life-force.

One assumed, given the Courts identifying monikers, that the Seelie Court represented 'goodness and light' and that the Unseelie Court represented the opposite: "darkness and pain'. But appearances were deceiving. The Unseelie merely represented those who were unwanted, the good, bad, the horrifying, and the discriminated. While the Seelie Court was rigid, falsely perfect, and pretentious: they kept things in the light so you couldn't see the darkness.

However, King Taranis was as dangerously crazy as Queen Andais was dangerously psychotic. While they hated each other with a passion born from too much similarity, this only made them more intriguing to the humans.

The Fey were a media staple. The Sidhe men were gorgeous, muscular and virile, while the women embodied envious feminine attributes, with graceful strides, full breasts and lithe, toned limbs. Others, were like delicate miniature replicas of the Sidhe such as the Demi-Fey. However, in the Unseelie Court were lesser Courts offering scarier visages, such as the dark, manta-ray-like Nightflyers of the Sluagh.

Each Fey had various powers attributed to them. For example, Galen the Green Man had the ability to turn an entire patch of brown grass green. He was blessed by a fertility god and represented growth. King Taranis could turn a room so bright that you got sunburned - literally. But as the Mound continued to wither away, their magic, and their powers continued to decrease or disappear altogether. Mistral the Master of Storms hadn't been able to call wind or rain in two centuries. However some things in the Mound never lost their power, like blood.

Blood was one of the most attractive commodities - want to seal a pact? Do so through blood. Need to call on some powerful magic? Blood will do. Blood was a favorite "medium" of Queen Andais, right alongside hearing the screams of her victims. She was a bit more... blood-thirsty than most. Nothing put her in a better mood... well that perhaps torture.

For a Fey to be tortured was almost a fate worse than death - for it was very difficult to kill a Fey. The general methods included either decapitation or being run through by an iron sword. Needless to say, what killed most other living things, only incapacitated Feys. Iron, however, was their "kryptonite" and could kill or slow recovery. Queen Andais was known to have once skinned a Faerie who had displeased her using iron. She was often seen walking from the Hall of Mirrors in contentment after such a session. However, the Queen was anything but content right now.

The Queen had a problem. Her Court was slowly dying. The Goddess Danu had abandoned them ever since The Wars. Her beloved son was crazier than her and while she would have almost given Prince Cel anything - including the throne, he had forced her hand to find other... solutions. Her niece, Princess Meredith Gentry, Princess of Flesh and Blood - who was not even a pureblooded Sidhe had changed things in spite of Andais' interference and threats.

It was funny how a small (and a few not-so-small) events changed everything. Her rage and despair over the turn of events knew no bounds. The now unidentifiable body in front of her could only groan as she twisted the knife in his stomach. Her son was dead!

She turned away from the body and sank wearily onto the settee located nearby in her chambers. No one would disturb her, in fact, the Court has been very quite since the latest events transpired. The thought of losing everything to that... niece of hers was intolerable. She looked down at her blood-soaked body, and licked away the few drops that landed on her lips. She had a grand niece now. And a powerful one at that! It wasn't enough that Merry had borne two sons, blessed by the Goddess herself! No, she had to have a daughter as well- a daughter who exhibited all the signs of being a Chosen of the Goddess. This threat to her power could not go unanswered.

A knock sounded on her door. "You had better have reason for disturbing me!"

The Goblin King, Kurag sank down to his knees, bowing his head in supplication. "I apologize for disturbing you your Majesty, but I've just gotten word on that information you seek."

Andais looked on in disgust, as Kurag openly fondled himself - this was a sign of respect in the lesser Goblin Court, "Kurag if you cannot control yourself I have no qualms about you taking his place." She pointed towards the barely conscious, bloody, victim bound to the wall.

"I care not if that is acceptable behavior in your Court, right now you are in mine. In spite of your lineage, I expect you to have a care while in my presence. Is that understood?" Andais sneered.. She was spoiling for a fight.

But Kurag wasn't King of the vicious Goblins for being well-endowed, he is actually quite wily, and did not fall for the queen's obvious baiting. "Again, I apologize Your Majesty. However, if you attack me you won't be hearing about your Grand Niece - I believe the name the humans gave her is Andrea Sachs."

Kurag was also aware that the wind of change was upon them and the Queen had been in a dark, foul mood since that vile son of hers was killed by Merry, making Merry the sole heir of the Unseelie Court. In addition, Merry had secured her place by bearing children and having her Fertility Powers bring life back to the Mound, into the Fey. Babies were being born all around, the Living Rose-Garden was alive once again! He, himself, was hoping to request Princess Meredith's presence at his court so that she may further bless it with her Fertility/Life and Death (they were the Unseelie Court) magic.

Andais just stared at him in that unnerving predatory way, "Very well. What other news do you have Kurag and what do you want in return? Remember, do not try what little patience I have."

"Your Grand Niece is unknown by Merry. She was squired away at birth for her protection." It was hard to keep the smugness out of his tone. Plus his knees were beginning to ache, worsening his disposition.

Andais paused in surprise before a wicked smirk appeared. "Hmmm. Do you know who the Father is?"

"No. But I do know where she lives. I'm thinking I'll be asking for a boon though. I want the Princess to bless my Court. All the other lesser Courts have gained their magic, but we have yet to -"

"The Red Caps? Are they not members of your Court? And how is it that Merry has no knowledge of her bairn? I think it would be hard for her to of missed the 3rd child pushed from her womb, don't you? She slowly circled him, making Kurag a bit... unsettled.

What the Queen did not know was that the midwife/healer who delivered Merry's daughter, also wiped everyone's memory of the third baby. That midwife was a Brownie named Morwen. She was small like all Brownies, with brown skin and skull-like features. They were magical creatures of Light who could clear a field of corn in one day or build a barn in a hour. Brownies were the backbone of both Courts. They were the chefs, the tailors, or craftsmen of either court.

Princess Merry's grandmother was a Brownie. She was the only true-parent Merry had left and was well loved by all Brownies. Unfortunately, she had lost her sanity and died due to the scheming of a Seelie family member.

Morwen had been given the honor of looking after Merry's interests in the event of her grandmother's death. This honor was what had compelled Morwen to steal the child away. Instinctively the Brownies knew that the girl would have suffered death or insanity should she have remained at the tender mercies of Court intrigue-particularly because of the Prophecy.

"The Red Caps are a law onto themselves and have pledged allegiance to the Princess. Most now live with her in that place of steel and glass to the West. Princess Merry or the Fathers have no knowledge of Andrea's existence because it was wiped clean by Morwen."

Queen Andais knew about the Prophesy and hadn't put much stock in it - until now. The girl-child meant trouble. Now to find this Brownie. She could not afford for this Brownie to wake Andrea. It would destroy her, and that, she could not allow.


Chapter 4a
Andy loved watching her little cousins 'rough-house' - they seemed so carefree, innocent. She wondered if any of them were... different - like her? She was currently staring out into backyard, while her mother finished puttering in the kitchen, preparing the potato salad for Andy's Post-Graduation-Moving-to-New York City-Celebration. Andy graduated with honors and an Ex named Max, the heart-break was extra.

"Look Andy, I love you but I can't move to New York City! My family is here and I've been offered an internship at this prestigious law firm here in Chicago." Max was busy packing up her own apartment to move back home.

"But I thought we'd try to make it work somehow? " Andy could feel the tears running down her cheek.

"Andy, you don't even have a job waiting for you. I mean - maybe if you'd accepted that scholarship to either Stanford or Brown...,"

"That's what this is really about isn't it?" Andy knew that Max never thought her journalism major was as 'honorable' or prestigious as wanting to be a lawyer or doctor.

Max stopped for a moment and spoke what was really in her heart. "Come on Andy?! You're super smart, you graduated with honors. You could be anything you wanted." Max stopped packing for a moment, looking down at her hands before sighing, "What you need to do is find your way. Don't you know how special you are? You have a lot of unanswered questions about who and what you are. I think this is the beginning of an important journey and will start to give you those answers. Because not having them? Never fills that hole inside you."

"Besides if you were a lawyer? You'd probably end up being some kind of 'bleeding-heart' lawyer from some kind of non-profit," she chuckled sadly.

Andy knew that Max always thought she was a little too optimistic or naïve, "There's nothing wrong about wanting to know the truth and fighting for what you believe in."

Max lifted hand to cup the side of Andy's face, while stroking her thumb through her tears, placing her other arm around Andy's waist, pulling her against her body, "I'm sure you'll be very good at it. I've always believed in you."

"I know the world is far from perfect - but I can't stand seeing something wrong and not trying to do something about it. "Max could hear the passionate conviction in Andy's voice.

"Besides I HATE being one of those people who complain about injustices and never does anything about... keeping the 'power structure on their toes is what being a journalist is about. Chronicling the human condition. And what's more fascinating than that?!"

Max just looked on fondly, before turning away to continue packing, "You know... while you're in New York you could try to find... Her."

Before Andy could offer a stunned response, Max continued, "I've always felt as if there was a 3rd person in the room. Maybe one day you'll tell me who she is?"

"Wha - , how did..." she gulped, "What are you talking about?"

"Andy I love you, but when your eyes glow in that certain way, right before you come so beautifully I can tell that you're somewhere else -"

"But that's not proof I was thinking of Her," Andy interrupted, "I was having an orgasm!"

Max stepped into Andy's body and chuckled, "Indeed we had some delicious moments. But Andy you always forget that I have a bit of the Sight, and when you're having particularly intense feelings, you project. I can't tell you how many times I've see Her."

A deep blush spilled over Andy's skin, "Oh yeah, I keeping forgetting that about you... I'm sorry Max. You do know I love -"

Max wrapped her arms around Andy's shoulder, kissing her gently on her full lips, "Sweetie, it's cool. I've always known you were meant for something bigger and I, for one, was not meant to be a part of that... directly anyways. You'll ALWAYS have me Andy."

They made mad passionate love one last time before Andy had to leave to prepare for the Graduation ceremony later on that day - and her family. Not to mention having to get rid of red-swollen eyes from crying.

Andy contemplated all of this while standing in front of her parents' sliding glass doors. What she never told Max was that going to New York City, starting out on her own, was the beginning of her journey to self discovery.

She thought of her latest dream about Her, and had to clench her thighs together to stave off the sudden twitch of her cunt.

The hotel lobby in Chicago again. Andy was sitting at the bar, sipping her favorite bourbon: Baker's. Suddenly she felt a shift in the air... She's here! She whipped her head around, looking, seeking. There! She could feel something shift inside her. Like a warm wave, threatening to spill over, movable images shifting on her skin, her eyes feeling increasingly hotter. She just stood in the doorway, trapping Andy's gaze in her own glowing, icy-blue, heat.

The smell of rain filled the air and her own answering scent of roses grew, mingling with rain - a greenhouse in a bar. Andy's gaze was finally released, allowing her to slowly travel down that smooth, milky column, locking on a steadily throbbing pulse. Andy wanted desperately to have her lips sucking and nibbling on that pulse-point.

Full breasts covered by an expensive-looking silky pale blue blouse, accentuating her creamy skin. Andy wondered if her nipples were pink or were they a darker pink, with a hint of red? Would they turn dark berries after being suckled, nibbled, bit, or pulled? Her mouth watered, even her teeth ached, at the thought.

Would she let her? Would she cup her head, run those long, tapered fingers through her hair? Would she make a sound? What kind? A gasp, a moan... a growl? Would she let Andy bite down? Andy's eyes briefly closed in ecstasy, chest heaving at that thought.

The thought of tasting this woman's blood made her nipples ache, her stomach clench, her hands to tremble. The need grew, taking over every one of her senses. Suddenly she was in front of Andy, exhibiting an unnatural stillness, like a cobra preparing to strike. Heat built up between them,, surging through Andy until her clothes felt too tight, chafing against her skin. She knew her own pulse point was beating wildly and she wondered if She could hear it.

She leaned down, Andy gasped, her hips thrusting up wanting to rub against the woman's abdomen, as the woman ghosted her lips over Andy's pulse, nuzzling... it was too much. Andy almost couldn't take the deluge of feelings and Power filling her like an over-flown cup. She had the urge to run, her body tensing for flight. But Andy sensed that this was no ordinary woman but a predator who'd give chase.

Andy also wondered if the woman could smell her. She knew her panties were completely soaked, she could feel her cum trickling down the crack of her bottom. She hoped she didn't leave a wet spot on the chair. Particularly, as she felt the woman gently lick her pulse-point, up to the edge of her ear, to hoarsely whisper, "Who are you?"

The woman's hands gripped Andy's wrists, before sliding up her arms until she came to her biceps, gripping them, stepping into her body, holding Andy in place. Andy whimpered in sheer want - she'd never felt anything like this!

Andy felt her hot tongue circle the rim of her ear (her ears were so sensitive!), before thrusting, swirling, in, mimicking another motion. Andy's own hands came up to the woman's shoulders, looking to hold on because she felt like she was drowning, her legs trembled so much she feared she would fall to her knees. Andy's hip started making small circular motions on the chair, her clit rubbing against the zipper on her jeans providing little relief to the tenacious ache in her pussy. She felt she was standing in the dessert at noon. Only it wasn't painful or uncomfortable. The answering energy sluiced over Andy like dew in a jungle, steamy, smelling strongly of roses and humidity.

The woman growled, eyes narrowing to slits, as she asked again, "Who are you? Why are you invading my dreams? What do you want?"

Her hands moved to Andy's sides, stroking up and down, down, over Andy's hips to cup her ass to firmly snuggle into her stomach and thighs.

Andy gasped, her feet kicking out in surprise, before coming up to hook around the woman's thighs, her nipples eliciting her nipples a pleasure-pain sensation they scrapped her lacy bra, "Oh Goddess!" she could feel more cum weeping from her cunt. Her clit felt swollen to the size of a marble.

The woman did not appear unmoved either. Her face had a fine sheen of red...was that... blood instead of sweat? Only Vampires sweated and cried blood! But the heat flowing off the woman's body was like the heat coming off black-top on a hot summer day. Nothing like the cold you would expect from a vampire.

In the dark, her eyes glowed silver, hardly any irises present, and a delicious lock of snow-white hair fell over the woman's brow. She was nuzzling Andy's jaw-line now, moving closer to her mouth. Andy could feel her breath scorching her skin, the scent of her, over-powering and delicious. Andy's mouth opened to scent her even more, turning her head to that intoxicating mouth.

The woman lifted her head a little to stare into Andy's eyes. "What are you?"

Andy whimpered again. "I don't know!" she said, before crushing her lips to the woman's.

That was when Andy had suddenly woken up, gasping and sweating. She quivered in want... Damn her!


Chapter 4b

Shaking her head brought her back to the present.

"Are you sure you're all right honey?" Andy's mother came up behind, touching her shoulder and gently turning her around to look into her mother's concerned, worried face.

"I'm fine mom. I'm just a little tired and overwhelmed about everything I have to do before leaving in a couple days."

"Are you sure this is what you want to do? I'm sure your father could still talk to his editor-friend Horace over at the Plain-Dealer." Her parents weren't huge fans of her moving to New York City. It was almost if they knew that once she left that they'd never see the Andy standing before them today. It was more than the "my little girl is leaving us syndrome'` that most parents experienced when a child moved out. It frightened her.

Neither parent knew their memories of Andy were magically implanted. Elizabeth Sachs "remembered" carrying Andy for 9 months, burping her, changing her diapers. She even "remembered" her first word, "Bo -"Andy's favorite stuffed pig. But she always knew there was something a little... different about her Andy. Richard and her had become experts at avoiding the issue of Andy's "specialness". It was better that way. But now Elizabeth felt that their time for avoidance was up.

"Mom, I appreciate it, but I need to do this!" What she didn't tell her Mom is that she wanted to know why she was stronger than even her bulky football player-friends from school, why her libido was off-the-charts, why her eyes started... glowing, when she was feeling intense emotions - mostly during sex. She found that the following day of meeting Max

***

They'd slept pretty much all morning, and she woke to the feel of Max gently caressing her thighs, palming her mound as she snuggled up to her from behind moving her hips against Andy's bottom. Andy rolled over, and thought, as she threw her thigh over Max's, pinning her lover underneath. Can there possibly be anything better than a hot woman writhing under you?!

"Good morning," Andy huskily growled. She moved her left thigh to hook underneath Max's thigh, opening Max's thighs even more. Andy began to leisurely thrust her pussy against Max, her nipples rubbing across Max's chocolaty-pink, swollen nubs. Max slid her arms around Andy's shoulder, while one hand tangled in the hair at Andy's nape, her long legs loosely wrapping around Andy's thighs.

Andy could feel the arousal racing through her at mach speed, thickening her veins, tightening her skin making it sensitive. Andy slid her hands down Max's torso, towards her back, over the swells of her upper buttocks, to cup her ass. Max shivered - Andy turned her on quicker than any lover she'd had before, leaving her almost breathless. But then she noticed something different about Andy's eyes. Where before her eyes were a gorgeous copper-brown, they now seemed to be... swirling? With hints of gold and... glowing?

"Andy? Your eyes! They're... kinda glowy?"

***

Andy was immediately brought back from her reverie when she heard a thump against the door from a soccer ball being accidentally kicked by her cousin Mark. She opened the door grabbing, trapping the ball before kicking it back.

"Hey Andy! Ready for my "Special Edition" burgers?" Andy's Dad asked. He was standing over a huge grill, with his 'Kiss the Cook' apron on.

"Sure Dad. You know how I like it, right -, "a grinning Andy gestured to the burgers on the grill.

"Yeah, yeah, you're the only one I know that eats beef that bloody, "he shuddered as he thought about that Porterhouse Steak she ate at Gene & Georgetti's Restaurant for her graduation dinner last week.

Handing over a plate with a fairly bloody burger with all her favorite fixings, Mr. Sachs took a moment to be proud of the beautiful woman his daughter had become. "Andy, I just want you to know how incredibly proud I am of you. And no matter what happens I'll always love you."

Andy could feel tears pooling in her eyes as she looked at her father before turning to look out at the rest of the assembled family-members, "Thank you Dad. That means the world to me." Her hand came up to gently squeeze her Dad's hand, before continuing on to the picnic table laden with all the fixins' essential for a proper bar-b-cue.


Chapter 5a

Miranda stood looking out her office window at Runway. Her daughters were still at their father's - a request Miranda made following The Gathering. She might be planning an extended stay for them if the fall-out from that meeting was what she anticipated. Miranda wrapped her deceptively strong arms around her middle, with one finger worrying a button on her Stella McCartney blouse. Thinking back to last week, Miranda knew that the time to meet with Jean-Claude needed to be sooner rather than later.

***
Flashback

Miranda could feel her chest heaving with exertion, her side stinging as the rapidly healing wound closed. The 'stale-mate' ensued even as the scent of blood and other... things permeated air.

"Fine, I'll consider your proposal to join the Council. In the meantime, in order to properly consider this disgrace of an "invitation", you should make plans for a meeting very soon. Or do you find that beyond your competence to facilitate this possibility?" Miranda sneered.

After the preliminary introduction for the beginning of the Gathering, certain protocols had to be adhered to - mostly Miranda thought it was all needless crap. Apparently these people had never heard of a computer or an I-Phone/Blackberry.

The room they were in, was fashioned like a suite at Versailles. All glittering gold, Italian marble statues, and Louis IX furniture. It was meant to look luxurious, but was actually quite uncomfortable. The high-backed chairs and large round table were both Chippendale, and the table, like some macabre tea-party, was fully set with plates and silver utensils. On the side of each chair were large pillows covered with damask patterning for their Pomme de Sangs.

Serena knelt on one of the pillows at her Master's feet, decked out in appropriate Pet-attire. A delicate collar gleamed at her long, graceful neck, and her hair glowed a soft, burnished gold. Her sheer thongs and thigh highs hid little, and her beautiful sheer La Perla bra only served to highlight her full breasts capped off by pierced, gold-hooped nipples. The set was the color of egg-plant and it complimented Serena's skin beautifully. She was decadence on display, as Miranda meant for her to be. As all the other pets were meant to represent.

In contrast, her Lieutenants, Nigel and Emily, stood directly at her back, a picture of carefully reigned violence ready for action at a moment's notice. Roy and Jaqueline were seated near the huge marble fireplace as all lower soldiers of each Council member were placed. However, Miranda put Roy near Jaqueline simply because she needed someone she trusted to 'watch Jaqueline in the event that things got heavy.


Belle Morte sat looking in amusement at Miranda, "Your Pet is beautiful, perhaps later after business is conducted you might lend her into my graceful care."

"As delightful as that might be - particularly for my Pet, I'd rather she leave here with all her parts intact," Miranda responded drolly.

"Padma," Miranda turned an icy glare on the Master of Beasts. "If you cannot control your instinct to 'reach out' to my Lieutenants then I can promise you my 'instinct' to react to this insult will be very unpleasant. You decide how badly you want Emily." She could hear the growl welling up in Emily's throat, along with her Power pulsating out like an open oven.

"Non, non, please let us not begin on such... difficult terms." said Belle Morte. "We 'ave much to cover, and in the spirit of cooperation, Padma will allow one of his Lieutenants to briefly fill the role of a Pomme de Sang (bleeder) to Mademoiselle Daywalker. Won't you?" She turned those glowing golden-brown eyes on the Master of the Beasts.

He was a swarthy man, perhaps of Southeast Indian descent, who'd love nothing more than to rip out Miranda's throat. But he also had the self-preservation to know that Belle Morte (and Miranda for that matter) could easily destroy him with little effort. However, the 'winds of change were upon them', and he planned on being there at the end to help drive an ax into Miranda, the Daywalker's neck. Then he planned to pimp out her Second, Nigel, to the meanest vampire he knew. He seethed with hatred at the group. Soon, he thought, soon.

"Fine. Anouk, make yourself available," Padma said to his Pet. Then he turned to Miranda and grimaced. "Enjoy."

Miranda could literally see the acidic hatred bleeding from his eyes. She rolled her own in apparent boredom - which she knew would only infuriate him more.


***

The meeting room was crowded tonight, with all of the Council members and their Subjects. There were age-old rules of hospitality that forbid too much bloodshed, of course, but one could never be entirely sure when keeping the company of these backstabbing vipers. Still feigning boredom, Miranda took a moment to study the assembly.

Aside from Padma and Belle Morte with her creepy, Second Musette, a handsome blonde man, better known as the Traveler, was also present. The Traveler rarely left his lair and often chose, instead, to "borrow" a local body wherever his presence was required. Today was no exception. To his left, stood Jaqueline's former Master, Morte de A'Mour, head of the Rotting Vampire Line, and on his right, was The Dragon. The Dragon was the head of the Empath Line, and though she looked only faintly amused now, Miranda knew her anger to be terrible. All in all, they were a delightful bunch.

"There seems to be some mistake," Miranda said, her voice flat, and carefully measured. "I am not, nor have I ever been even remotely interested in a place on the Council. I think I've made myself very clear in the past,"

"But surely you understand that you have a duty to your Vampire brethren?" Padma asked. Though his voice projected sweet innocence, the ever-present sneer on his lips detracted from the picture.

Miranda narrowed her gaze and her Power immediately flooded the room, hot and intense like the Sun. "I don't think you know your place Padma." Miranda's voice was deceptively mild, but her power was suffocating. "Need I remind you that this is beneath me? That you are beneath me?"

The heat of Miranda's Power scoured across his skin, and Padma could no longer contain his rage and hatred at the insult. Pride and anger over-shadowed his caution. "Me thinks that you don't have the... stomach for this," said Padma with a sneer. "You've been around your humans for far too long. They have made you weak." He barely finished his sentence before Emily was flying across the table.

Shifting her hands into claws, arms outstretched, elongating her teeth for tearing, Emily slammed, claws first, into Padma's side. She knocked him out of his chair but before she could cause more damage, Padma let loose his own Power and forced her to fully shift. Emily let out a hoarse cry, and was left momentarily breathless from the pain.

Nigel was moving before Emily even made it to Padma, crashing into Belle's servant Angelito before the huge enforcer could take Emily on her unprotected side. They both went tumbling from the force of impact but Nigel recovered faster, swiping his nails- turned-claws across Angelito's face, leaving four deep scratches.

Angelito howled, wrapping a powerful hand around Nigel's waist, while the other came up attempting to impale Nigel on the side. Roy made a move towards Miranda, shifting himself to help guard her. Serena began to partially shift as well, also lending protection to her Mistress.

Suddenly, a thunderous smack came down onto the table, freezing everyone. "That is enough!" Miranda's voice was deep as it echoed around the chamber, seeming all-knowing and powerful. Her eyes glowed incandescent and her Power released, making it seem as if all the sound and color was getting pulled from the room.

As darkness began to spill across the room, Belle spoke. "D'accord, d'accord, stop, merci..." Musette, who had begun move towards Nigel's back, stilled.

"If I find that anyone has drawn blood from my Servants I can promise you that I will draw blood next." Miranda glared at the assembly before turning her attention to the Master of Beasts. Facing Padma, Miranda's icy demeanor disappeared and she almost looked congenial to those who did not know her. Those who did, held their breath. Miranda was most dangerous when she was being pleasant. It meant she'd already won.

"Padma, Padma, Padma - you do try my patience. It is unfortunate that Jean-Claude killed your son before I could. But I would have taken a great deal longer and more pleasure in eradicating his presence from this world. Don't think for one moment that courtesy would not extend to you-of course then we'd have three openings on the council now wouldn't we? Now that would leave the council in quite a bit of a quandary. All those Master Vampires in America... and no where to go? What would they do?..."

The elevated scent of fear in the room answered Miranda's question about why the Council was so insistent about the status of her membership. They were worried that a new, more powerful Council would be incorporated in America.

Suddenly a body pressed intimately against Miranda from behind, and a voice whispered into her ear, arms enfolding her waist. "We could rule this world together mon cher. Do you remember what it was like when we were together?" Miranda could feel a hint of fang running along her neck from Belle Morte. "You were so passionate - it was if there wasn't enough. It could be that and so much more -"

For a moment Miranda let Belle get away with it before grabbing one of her hands, her Power leaping out over her finger-tips. Blue fire engulfed Belle's hands, causing Belle to feel as if her hand was being dipped in acid. Belle tried to hold her position - not wanting to 'give in' front of the rest, but it did not stop her from hissing in pain.

"Why do you insist on trying my patience Belle?" Miranda asked, stroking Belle's burning hands. "Surely you understand that while I have my own line, She is still my Master. Are you asking me to... "

"Tell your Servant to get that dagger out of my side," interrupted Belle, her voices strained from the pain. "If he draws blood then I agree, things will get very ugly, very fast-"

"That warning is entirely too late." Miranda sneered in derision as she looked at the various fashion failures. Miranda released a big sigh while moving at the same time. In a blink she was standing behind Belle Morte holding the 2 little "demons" Musette's lil' torturers-- 2 feet off the ground. She threw them across the room, watching with some satisfaction as they hit the fireplace.

Hmmm, no fire? She'd have to fix that. Nigel, Miranda mind called, it's feeling a little chilly in here, would you start a fire? Flames began to lick outwards, caressing any vampires nearby, their screams piercing the air. In the meantime, Belle attempted to unleash her Animal to Call: big cats - including Serena.

With sudden insight, Miranda knew that if she would not acquiesce to joining the Council, they would try to kill her. If Serena fully changed under Belle's 'calling' she'd be forced to do her bidding. Striped white fur started to spill over her skin, but Miranda exerted her own power, slowing the Change. Serena's back bowed under the strain. She raised her head towards Miranda, searching out her eyes: Miranda minutely nodded before Serena smoothly flowed to her feet, picking up a heavy chair to throw at Padma's head.

While this usually presented no problem for Padma, he was preoccupied fending off the attack from Emily, and so did not see the chair's trajectory. Emily, who was standing almost 7feet tall, with shockingly white fur spilling down her back and black around her hands and ears. Emily, whose yellow wolf-eyes were made that much more eerie by her unnatural coloring. Emily, who was currently forcing Padma to kneel as he tried to keep her deadly claws at bay.

The only reason he hadn't been able to Call her was because of Miranda's Power holding him at bay. He started to roll onto his back to flip Emily over before he was brutally hit in the side by a flying heavy chair.

It took his concentration off all the Weres he was trying to control, but more importantly it gave Emily an opportunity to move her snapping jaws with dripping saliva towards his chest. You could almost hear a wet, tearing, sound, as her teeth bit into the muscle of his right breast. Blood splattered over her white fur making it look grisly. Teeth tore away at skin and he began to scream once he realized they were puncturing his organs. The pain was excruciating!

A few feet away, Nigel was having a bit more problem. His suit was ruined, shredded from the talons on Antonio's hands. Antonio was almost as old as Nigel, only he was a hulking, menacing, 6'8, Master vampire. Which put them on more even ground. Plus Antonio didn't really care for Nigel after Nigel had thwarted his advances - Antonio only played 'tough' and others often found themselves needing some kind of medical treatment afterwards, if not outright burial upon a night in his "tender care." Nigel thought he was crass and conveyed that to him-apparently he still held a grudge.

Nigel was able to bend backwards almost supernaturally to avoid another punch. Christ! Getting punched by him was like getting hit by a block of cement! He rolled, then swept a leg behind's Antonio's and as he fell, Nigel furiously looked around before quickly scampering over towards the fireplace. Punching a piece of marble, Nigel quickly stepped back, swung around to bring full force his hand with the marble rock towards Antonio's unguarded head. The thud echoed around the room.

Giving a roar, Antonio leaped forward only to be hindered by a leaping Jaqueline?! She began rotting all over his head - which Vampire or not-would make anyone distracted. He saw Antonio reach up towards Jaqueline, grabbing her shoulders to pull her off. Nigel blurred forward, faster than any human eye, and sank his talon-like fingers into Antonio's chest.

Miranda's nails became dagger-like as she fully unleashed her Power. The smell of rain and thunderstorms perfumed the air. The growing Darkness continued, and anyone caught in its path suddenly felt as if they couldn't breathe, as if their powers were weakened and drained away.

Miranda nodded at Roy and he too, fully unleashed his beast. His incisors grew down to his chin, his eyes turned golden with a glowing red ring around the irises and his pointed ears complimented his growing snout and powerful jaws. Two wicked looking swords appeared in each of his hands with one already slashing upwards through one of Padma's underlings. Intestines spilled out and the blood sprayed both Miranda and Belle. The disemboweled body screeched, even though its mouth no longer had lips from it 'rotting' away. His nails lengthened into rat-like claws even as he jumped over Belle and Miranda to take out one of Padma's were-lions.

Miranda and Belle Morte were actually frozen in horrific tableau as each tried to out-do the other in Power. Belle with her Ardeur and Miranda with the Darkness. The weaker Weres and Vampires around the room had fallen to the ground with both of their Powers unleashed, bleeding through their ears and noses, even the vampires sweated blood, unable to fight back.

"STOP!"

The Traveler used his power to echo his voice over the fighting. All fighting froze in surprise, "that is ENOUGH!"

"Monsieur Nigel, Mademoiselle Emily, Daywalker, you've gotten your pound of flesh. Belle Morte, you've 'tested' them and lost - again."

Belle Morte looked at him with her glowing golden-brown eyes, "How dare you -"

"I dare because I will finish it! Let them go or there will be no one left. Do you think these Servants are the only ones I've brought to the soiree?" The Traveler stood, preparing to leave.

"I knew something like this might occur, and in the interest of fairness, if you are looking for a battle than make it official or we will come to an unpleasant conclusion here."

"I know that I may not be the most powerful here, but I've been preparing for the eventuality that you would not be satisfied." The Traveler nodded at Belle Morte, the Miranda, before continuing out the door, leaving behind everyone to pick up the fragments.


***

Miranda stood looking out over the New York skyline, after office hours, mulling over the events of the meeting. The political consequences of her actions were not lost on her. She'd stirred up a hornet's nest of the most powerful vampires in Europe, and Miranda knew she could ill afford to miscalculate her next steps. The last thing she needed were distractions, and yet, distracted she was. The dreams had started up again. Who was that young woman from the hotel lobby in Chicago, and why a few years later did she still feature so prominently in her dreams?

She sometimes still wished she'd given into the urge to glide over to that woman so that she could run her fingers through those chocolate brown waves. And those lips were too succulent to be left unattended for long. She imagined them pressing up against her throat, or nibbling on another part of her body. Despite her appalling fashion sense, she wondered what the girl would look like in a red Valentino. She could still remember every little detail about her - even years later. It was... unsettling. Like so much of her life had become unsettling.

She sighed and brought an elegant hand up to rub the bridge of her nose - what to do next? Well certainly it meant a visit to St. Louis sooner rather than later. She really hoped these next steps did not include waking her Maker: Marmee Noir. Waking the Mother of All Darkness was something she wished dearly to avoid.

***
Chapter 5b
Back in Los Angeles

Doyle, Princess Meredith's Captain of the guard and consort, suddenly gasped, startled awake by that dream. He sat up panting, trying not to wake Merry. The... girl. This was the not the first time he'd dreamt of the girl. He looked up towards the doorway - "You've had them too," came a solemn whisper from the pale-haired figure.

"You mean I am not the only one?" asked Doyle as he gently extracted himself from a pale arm wrapped around his middle without the disturbing the woman.

"No, Sholto has had the dreams about the girl as well. What do you think it means?" Mistral, the Storm King and Princess Meredith's other consort, followed Doyle out of the room, but not before gently closing the door.

"Have you told Merry?" Doyle asked.

"No, I think it's time to find out what these dreams mean and why we are having them." Doyle hadn't admitted that 'the girl' felt... familiar and that upon waking from the dreams he often felt empty. The Sidhe often had prophetic dreams, the fact that the other Fathers were having dreams about the same 'girl' made it even more disturbing.

"What do you think it means - I mean who is she?" asked Mistral.

"I don't know," said Doyle, "but I think it is time we spoke to the other Fathers." The fact that they were all Fathers made them more connected ---linked, and Doyle knew, instinctively, that all five of them were involved in the dreams.

Once bodyguards to Princess Meredith, the five former guards had impregnated the princess with twins and now ruled by her side as her consorts. It had been a phenomenon. Five fathers, two children. The courts had been thrown into a frenzy at the news, but however much the Fey wished to deny it, Princess Meredith was now the official heir to Queen Andais and the Unseelie throne. And these five men, Doyle knew, would do anything for their princess.

"Do you think this has to do with Frost?" asked Mistral.

Doyle thought about the possibility. Frost, after all, had been one of the fathers, though he no longer existed in his natural form. Frost had been sacrificed in their final battle against Prince Cel (Princess Meredith's rival for the throne) and had been turned into a Stag. No one knew where he'd gone since.

"Father?" Doyle glanced down as his son, Darius, broke in to his reverie. "Are you talking about the girl?" Darius greatly resembled his father Doyle. Skin tone a beautiful onyx with tri-colored light, dark and cerulean blue eyes, he was a favorite among the human press and feared among his own kind-his resemblance to Doyle, the Queen's Darkness, unnerved many. Lately he'd been staying at the Mound to keep tabs on court intrigue, and had just arrived home looking slightly disheveled.

His brother Aiden, was the complete opposite of him; introverted and studious. Resembling Mistral with pale coloring similar to a cloud-storm, he found facts and sciences comforting. Doyle loved them both dearly.

Mistral grinned. "Maybe. How was the flight?" Like Doyle he hated traveling by plane.

Darius sighed. "I wish I had a bit of your Powers father, then I could ride the wind instead of feeling like a ship in a storm. Anyways, I've seen that same girl in my dreams since I was a teenager. I thought she might have been a girl I had a crush on, but she kept re-appearing -"


"Why didn't you tell us?" Doyle asked, as he walked closer to his son.

"Because I thought I was the only one... why?" Darius narrowed his eyes. "What's going on?" Both of their sons were very aware of court intrigue and why their Family chose to live here in Los Angeles instead of the Mound.

"Well nothing happens by coincidence when dealing with the Fey - it's time to figure out who this girl is and perhaps find her. Chances are, if we're having these dreams others -namely our enemies, might know of her, which means she's in danger."

"Should we tell Merry -" began Mistral.

"Not yet, let me find out more information." The feeling of premonition was growing stronger and with a look of determination, Doyle began walking back towards the bedroom. It was his turn tonight to sleep with Merry, which reminded him that he hadn't bothered to put on a robe to cover his naked form. But the Sidhe didn't have the same hang-ups that humans had around sex and nudity.

"Father, why do I feel as if I should know her?" Darius looked bemused as he gestured toward both his fathers. Mistral and Doyle shared a look.


***

Chapter 6

St. Louis

Anita was not having a good day. Her favorite coffee mug broke, the Ardeur had been particularly... intense last night and her feeding had left her bruised and battered with bite marks from her lovers. She felt like she had the worst hang-over ever. Nathaniel only magnified her hangover when he told her he had found someone to Top him on a consistent basis and would she meet him to give the 'ok'. Since Micah - her lover and Nimir-Raj, (king) of the local Were-leopards Blooddrinkers Clan, wasn't around because he was handling some Furry Coalition business stuff, there wasn't even anyone to really de-stress her.

To make matters worse, Richard; the Ulfric of the local Werewolf Thronnos Rokke Clan had decided to pick a fight right after her mug-incident. He apparently felt the need to yell at her for failing to "control" the Ardeur, and practically accused her of purposefully impacting him through their metaphysical marks. And now. to top it all off, Jean-Claude was leaving her urgent messages about Council business - which was never good.

Oh how I just love being a human servant sometimes, she thought sarcastically.

Anita was one third of a powerful triumvirate with Jean-Claude and Richard consisting of the other two thirds. They'd been joined, out of necessity and not necessarily choice, thanks to a series of unfortunate events that had forced them to meld their power in order to survive. And as if that hadn't been enough, due to her abilities as a Master Necromancer Anita had accidentally formed a second Triumvirate with a Vampire named Damien and her Were-Leopard and Pomme de Sang: Nathaniel.

She can rarely leave home without Nathaniel because the Ardeur is so unpredictable and because Damien became crazed after she left him alone for a period of time. Of course being a former Viking often provided much needed 'muscle' when required.

Whilst tangoing with the supernatural, Anita had contracted several lycanthropy strains-most notably, wolf, leopard, and tiger, and with all the metaphysical confusion she had ended up wearing several different 'hats': she was Nimir-Ra (queen) to Micah and the leopards, Bolverk (protector and enforcer) to the werewolves, and Human Servant to Jean Claude, the master vampire of the St. Louis Kiss.

Being a Federal Marshall, official Vampire Executioner, and a consultant for the Regional Preternatural Investigation Taskforce (RPIT) on top of everything else, meant her life was rarely her own. It was depressing really. She was Anita Blake, one of the most powerful and feared Master Necromancers to come along in centuries, (much to the displeasure of the Council) and she couldn't even get a cup of coffee without an Act of Congress. Anita sighed.

Since it's a power that's all her own, her evolving power over the... Undead makes things very interesting... and often dangerous. Having a figure resembling something out of Resident Evil follow you home is not a pleasant experience. But she's accepted that she's now a part of the Monsters regardless if she still has to occasionally hunt them.

Currently, she was driving, with her ever-present Browning Hi-Power gun, along with Damien in the passenger seat, and Nathaniel in the back, on the way to Jean-Claude's club. Council business was best dealt with in person. And hopefully, if she was lucky, this would be done quickly and efficiently. In her experience, someone always got either hurt or killed when the Council got involved. Mentally, Anita checked her personal arsenal just in case.

It was a soothing exercise. The Firestar was in her left holster, two small knives were strapped to the inside of either arm, and her thin short sword was tucked against her back, the hilt reassuringly warm at the nape her neck, just under her dark midnight hair. The thought of her earlier conversation with Jean Claude made her regret her decision to leave the mini-uzi, Heckler and Kosch's MP in the back of the trunk though.


***

"Ma petite, you must come to the Club as soon as possible. It is about the Council." He sounded tense. Jean-Claude is usually an expert in shielding his thoughts or emotions. But when he was really worried about something the stress often leaked out via their connection before he realized he was doing it and then he'd slam his shields tight.

Anita tried once again to reach out to 'feel' Jean-Claude and continued to run into the same "wall" she'd encountered earlier. This was never a good indication of things to come.


***

She finally pulled into the Circus of the Damned. She could hear the music from the parking lot, "Do you know what this is about Anita?" Nathaniel pulled up next to her as they headed to the side entrance where the living quarters were located.

She sighed, "No, all I know is that it has something to do with the Council." She could see the look of fear in his lavender-colored eyes.

The door opened before they reached it, "Hey sweet cheeks, are you back because you can't get enough of me?" Jason, Jean-Claude's Pomme de Sang stood in one of his usual get-ups: tight vinyl shorts, some kind of sparkly-mesh shirt which allowed his nipples to poke through. He was an outrageous flirt, but it was completely harmless, if not at times annoying. Standing at only 5'5 he appeared completely disarming - once you ignored his fashion selections.

She rolled her eyes in exasperation, "How is everything tonight? You might as well give me the run-down because I'll get eventually get the details that Jean-Claude won't disclose from you later."

He held up his hands in a fake gesture of submission, "All I know is that Jean-Claude woke from his sleep really frantic. He went directly in his office after calling in Asher and when he came out he told me to start rounding up all the Lieutenants, Rafael, Richard, and now you."

This ratcheted up the feeling of nervousness and premonition she'd been feeling since Jean-Claude called her to come to the club. Last time it was about the Council Anita had become acquainted with a bunch of very scary vampires called the Harlequin. They were the boogeyman of even Master Vampires, and the only reason she had survived the encounter was because they'd violated their Maker, Marmee Noir's decrees. If they hadn't died as a result...Anita shuddered at the thought. It would have been bad.

Marmee Noir was currently in a Big Sleep, but she'd been "visiting" Anita in her dreams - not a pleasant experience, and it was Anita's guess is that she was waking. A very, very, scary prospect. The Harlequin had been frightening enough on their own, Anita had no desire to meet the vampire who'd created them.

They followed Jason to the main room that almost seemed filled with people. Jean-Claude, followed by Richard and his bodyguards Jamal, Sylvie, and Shang-Da, Rafael - Rodere (king) of the local Were-Rat clan and Claudia his bodyguard (and Anita's too). And Asher -- Jean-Claude's Second. Wicked and Truth; Master Vampires who were also brothers, Meng Die another of Jean-Claude's Master Vamp bodyguard, and Haven the one Were-Lion.

"Whoa! It must be serious if I get this kind of Welcome." Anita went over to Jean-Claude, bent down for a kiss and sat in the remaining chair to his right. Richard was on the other side.

"Patience ma petite. I wanted everyone here who are close to us and as a result might be affected by upcoming events." Suddenly the door opened and Micah followed by Merle his bodyguard came through. A chair appeared near Anita and he came around the table and various bodyguards to sit. He leaned over for a kiss on her cheek, "Have I missed anything?"

"Non, we were just getting started. I have called this gathering because I have received a request for entrance from one of the most powerful vampires in the world."

"Well that's nothing new -," Anita began.

"Non, ma peite. This is indeed new. This vampire is hated and feared by the Council members and she is Marmee Noir's Second." You could hear a pin drop after that statement.

"Wait a minute isn't she a part of the Council?" Richard looked as confused as the rest of us.

"She is not, but not for their lack of...trying," answered Jean Claude.

Anita snorted she could just imagine what kind of "persuasion" they'd used.

"Additionally, there was a Council meeting recently in which she-"

"Wait, she's one of the most powerful Vamps in the world and the Council is just getting around to asking her to join?" Nathaniel asked.

"Yes. The Council I believe that they insisted she join them, she declined and I believe things... crumbled? from there. If she is coming here she may attempt an alliance, which will bring attention from the Council once again, and this time there may be no... restraint."

"So she's not a part of the Council huh? Probably figured out like the rest of us what a bunch of bloated-egotistical vamps they are. Has she ever been a part of the Council in the past - wait why would they be concerned about us making friends with her?" asked Anita.

"I am now a Sourdre de Sang and she is as well, in addition to the Obsidian Butterfly in New Mexico, this means we could form our own base of power that would potentially challenge the Council. However, this is not something I'm even remotely interested in and I cannot believe that the Butterfly would be inclined to... how you say it? Play with others?"

"However this is not something I imagine the Council will believe or leave to chance." Rafael echoed from down the table.

"So the question is, do we form this alliance or do we avoid a potential headache?"

"Avoid if of course," said Richard. The rest of the room did not deign to comment. That the solution was so simple for the Wolf King spoke to his consistent ignorance of preternatural power and politics. Richard, HATES a huge part of himself, namely his wolf, and has inevitably made his life, as well as, the lives those close to him very difficult

"What else do we know about her? What's her name anyways?" Anita asked.

"She is known as the Daywalker, she is legendary within vampire circles. She's taken on Belle Morte and won. However, she has no patience for the intrigue that infests the Council. And humans know her as Miranda Priestly, Editor-in-Chief of a fashion magazine called Runway-"

"What?! Oh, my god! I LOVE that magazine!" exclaimed Jason, much to the confusion to everyone else. Fashion beyond the 1700s, (for some), leather and latex, and jeans, was beyond the scope of understanding to most of the people in the room.

"So she's a very public figure? Wow, how does she balance that?" wondered Anita.
"Wait, she's called Daywalker, I'm assuming that's one of her powers? That must make other vampires very uncomfortable." She almost couldn't fathom it, a vampire being able to walk about during the day.

"I don't think we need the trouble." Richard said, looking directly at Anita, "We've had more than enough of it already."

She sighed in irritation. "Richard wishing trouble won't find us doesn't make it go away."


***

Chapter 7

Back in New York

Today was Andy's interview at Elias-Clarke, for some kind of magazine called Runway. She was a bit nervous. She looked herself over one more time before grabbing her bag, I-Pod, and keys and then heading out. As she rode the subway, she wondered what kind of place it was; she hoped that her blue sweater, brown skirt, and clunky-heeled shoes were professional enough. She knew she was smart enough for the job, but being smart didn't always equal being a 'fit' for the job.

Her stop came up, and Andy gathered her things before starting for interview. She never noticed the two men following her. One with long, pale-blonde hair and the other with blue hair that exactly matched his skin color. Both were tall, broad-shouldered, and wearing suits - although the pale-haired one's suit looked like something out of 1920s gangster movie and the other wore a full-brimmed hat. Sidhe eyes hidden by dark shades tracked the young woman's movements.

Andy hurried through the lobby towards the elevators after passing through security. She took the elevator to the 22nd floor. She came to glass doors, surrounded by more glass and inside she could see people scurrying around in different directions. A red-headed woman met her right away. "Human Resources must think this is a joke."

She looked Andy up and down before continuing on, "We need someone who can survive here. It is a HIGHLY demanding job, Miranda expects perfection. Do you understand?"

Andy nodded as she hurried after Emily, "Well I'd like to be considered-"

"You're joking right?! Andy, an interest in fashion is required." She stated with scornful amusement.

But before Andy could reply, she felt a wave of weird energy prickling from Emily as Emily looked down to read a text on her phone. "Oh, my god, her facialist ruptured a disc! She had to cancel her appointment! She'll be here in 5 minutes!"

And with that she started frantically running around, straightening her desk and slipping on another pair of shoes. She ran into what, Andy assumed, was Ms. Priestly's office which was through a set of milky-glass doors.

A bald man, impeccably dressed in a uniquely printed suit and glasses, came through another set of doors to Emily's desk. Upon hearing of Miranda's imminent arrival, he straightened up and shouted, "Gird your loins!" Suddenly all the employees started doing full-on sprints to their desks, throwing away containers of food and changing flat shoes into heels. It was chaotic!

Even before the elevator opened Andy could feel something approaching. She had to almost physically restrain herself from standing up from the chair and walking towards it. As the elevator numbers got closer to the Runway floor, that feeling started to feel like someone had laced her veins with Icy Hot. But it wasn't unpleasant exactly. Andy stood around awkwardly trying to make sense of what was going on. Then the elevator doors opened... it was her! The woman from the hotel lobby! Andy sat up straighter, she felt as if her heart would beat right out of her chest, her palms itched, plus a whole bunch of other internal fireworks ensued.

The woman removed her sunglasses as Emily held the door opened. But even before she noticed Andy, Andy noticed that she paused minutely, lifted her nose as if 'scenting' the air before her eyes zeroed in on Andy. Emily glared over Miranda's head at Andy. With the slightest pause in her path towards her office, their eyes locked and if one could 'color the air' they would have seen white-hot energy arcing between her and Andy. All of this happened within seconds - almost unnoticed before Miranda schooled her features back into icy-impassiveness. She continued on towards her office, throwing her coat and bag on the empty desk that Andy was sitting at.

"I simply cannot understand why you cannot confirm a simple thing like a facialist appointment. Am I reaching for the stars? Nonetheless, I need you to confirm my appointment at that restaurant with the duck I like, and then get me 10 skirts from Gucci. Then I want you to tell my husband, 'No, I'll pick them up on Saturday and no later.' And tell Nigel that those models for the paratrooper shoot were short, fat, and paunchy - I want tall, slender, and attractive, is that so hard?" She paused for a moment to sit down at her desk. "Who is that?" she gestured towards Andy's direction.

"Um, tha, that is the 2nd assistant interview. I can simply send her -"she awkwardly stuttered out.

"No, no, I'll do it. Clearly you can't be counted on to make a competent selection since the last 3 were so disappointing. I'll have to do it myself." What neither Emily nor Andy knew was that internally Miranda was cursing the Fates.


***

Miranda could practically feel her flesh 'leap' towards the stunned brunette in response to her nearness. If one were to notice Miranda's hands as she powered up her Mac, flipping through notes, they'd see them trembling. The young woman's scent wafting in from the reception area was driving her up the wall! It was all she could do to not drag her in here and nuzzle her neck! It was ridiculous! To make matters worse, she was the woman from the hotel lobby in Chicago-The woman who had featured quite a bit (to her everlasting annoyance) in her dreams. She could not afford a distraction right now, and it would behoove her to send the silly girl away. Yes, that was by far the safest and most desirable action.

Looking up from perusing her memos, Miranda opened her mouth and, "Send her in," fell out. Looking back down, she continued reading through the various memos, mock-ups, and correspondences, while doing a quick perusal of Andy's resume.


***

Andy walked in to stand before Miranda's desk, "Thank you for seeing me Ms. Priestly -"

"Do you know what we do here at Runway?" Miranda interrupted with preamble.

"Ah, it's a fashion magazine -"

"You have no idea who I am, nor have you ever heard of... me before today?" Miranda drawled in icy tones.

"Well, ah, no-"Andy stuttered.

Miranda continued, "You have no sense of style or any sense of fashion." She finally looked at Andy in derision and boredom.

"Well I think it depends on what your definition of-," Andy tried to counter.

"No, no, that wasn't a question." She waved her finger at Andy, while Andy uncertainly looked down at her clothes, but before she could answer, they were interrupted by that bald man - Nigel?

He swept into Miranda's office and around her desk to show her something, "These dresses look like something on the Mainline at a Vegas show."

Miranda gave Andy one last inscrutable look before looking down at his proofs. Andy figured the meeting was over. She never felt such a weird amalgamation of feelings: humiliation, anger, fascination, yet, she thought Miranda never looked more beautiful and she couldn't help but feel drawn to her. But she wanted to lob one last shot before leaving, "You know I may not have the latest haute couture or know anything about Runway, but I'm smart, I work hard, and I learn fast..." Miranda stood, leaning on a hand. While she was studying Andy their eyes locked again. Miranda's cheeks pinkened before turning her attention back to Nigel.

"Well thank you for your time." Andy shuffled out her office and quickly to the elevators.


***

Why her? Why now? Miranda asked herself, thinking furiously about the possible consequences of Andrea's presence.
She was confused and not a little thrown by the sudden appearance of her dream lover.

As if her life wasn't complicated enough - the ink was still drying on her LAST divorce to Stephen. Yet watching Andrea leave ripped something inside of her, it was unexplainable. For some reason Miranda couldn't let her go. "Emily go get her. She seems significantly smarter than your usual selection." Emily stood there in stunned surprise before Miranda said, "Do stop your ugly imitation of a fish! Go get her!"

Nigel watched the proceedings with some surprise as Emily dashed past him toward the elevator banks. "Who was that sad creature?" he asked.

"My new Emily, now get me those proofs!" Miranda snapped. She definitely didn't need any more examination into her decision than necessary, and Nigel could be like a piece of gum at the bottom of a shoe when he put his mind to something.


***

Andy sighed as she moved through the revolving doors, leaving the building with a growing sense of aching loss. She knew in her gut that she was leaving something infinitely important behind.

"Wait!" someone yelled from behind. Andy turned and was surprised to see Emily. She looked resigned and irritated, her eyes oddly bleeding into a different color before quickly changing back. The first assistant beckoned with her finger. "She wants you back." She shook her head in aggravation at her new color-blind-fashion-disaster colleague.


***


A Bar Somewhere in Manhattan

Later she met up with Doug and Lily at their favorite bar to celebrate Andy's new job. They didn't notice the two men that were following Andy earlier, sitting near the back while making sure Andy was directly in their sights.

"Do you think that's her?" asked the pale-haired man.

"If the latent Power I'm feeling from her is any indication than I'd have to say it's a strong possibility. Not to mention, that the Power is... familiar." They could almost see the moving marks on her skin. They wondered if the marks had gained their magic.

"Like her Father?" Rhys, the pale-haired one wondered aloud.

The blue-haired one - Barinthius scratched his chin in contemplation. "I think the Goddess Danu has played a trick on us. The girl's power does not come from just one source."

Rhys frowned in confusion, "What do you mean? Merry? Well of course, she's her Mother, but-"

"No, I mean I think her Power comes from something more. It's very strong. Whereas Merry's sons seem to only have residual power from all their Fathers while strongly resembling their Dominant Father," he stated with growing concern.

Rhys looked stunned. "That's impossible, that has not happened in thousands of years! If either Queen Andais or King Taranis learn of this they will surely do everything in their power to kill her."

Barinthius shook his head, "What makes this even worse is that she has little to no idea about her heritage or any of her Powers. Meaning she will be unable to cloak herself from the Fey."

Rhys sighed mightily at the upcoming conflict, especially considering that they'd all just recovered from the last one. "When do we tell Princess Merry?"

"I must contact Doyle first before we proceed. In the meantime, we will have to stay here to offer her some protection." He shuddered at all the metal and iron surrounding him. He'd rather be home at the Mound. Most Fey did not do well in these environs.


***

"You should've seen all those people running around like it was a 2-for-1-sale at Macy's! It was nuts! Then she told me I had no sense of fashion!" Andy gesticulated wildly to the amusement of her friends. What she didn't tell them was the intense connection she felt with Miranda Priestly. But she quickly brought herself back to the present, she'd have time enough to digest and analyze her meeting with Miranda later.

"Well I'd be totally thrilled to be surrounded by all that haute couture, instead I'm stuck at Goldman Sachs analyzing numbers." Andy and Lily look at Doug with fond amusement.

"That's because you're a big giant queen! How you ended up in such a staid, unexciting job we'll never know. Anyways, I'm more comfortable in a pair of jeans, my favorite pair of motorcycle boots, and a t-shirt. But I'll tell you what: I refuse to change my entire wardrobe just because everyone I work with starves themselves just to fit into the latest fashion."

Swigging from a bottle of Dos Equis, Andy said, "Anyways, let's do a toast:" She raised her drink and deepened her voice to mimic the "mysterious Don Juan" spokesperson for Dos Equis. "Stay Thirsty my Friends." Her friends laughed because it didn't even sound close.

"I have to go to the bathroom and then I'm going to see if they have my favorite artist on the jukebox... you guessed it! Barry White!" Her friends groaned before taking a longer pulls on their own drinks.

"You just couldn't wait, could you?! Lucky for you I've resigned myself to hearing at least one Barry White song whenever we hang out!" Lily laughingly watched Andy saunter towards the bathroom.


***

Chapter 8

Andy was standing before the mirror in the bathroom, looking intently at her reflection - almost as if she'd look hard enough it'd give her some answers. Sighing in frustration, she thought, Why is my life feeling increasingly like a story where I play an unwitting character?

She thought back to her day - Runway... Miranda. She had a sneaking suspicion that some of the questions plaguing her life would be answered and that she wasn't going to like some of those answers.

When Emily came to tell her she'd gotten the job, for just a moment she thought about not taking it. The sense of premonition and anxiousness increased ten-fold riding up in that elevator, back to Runway... back to Miranda. It felt like a cord or leash being tightened around her neck, but not in a suffocating way, more like, "Hey, your Fate that you've been avoiding is here - time to meet her!"

There had been a steady hum of energy the minute she'd walked through those doors. It became even more irritating when Emily introduced herself - sort of-because that 'hum' felt like the heat from a toaster standing next to her. However, that was eclipsed by leaps and bounds the second Miranda walked through those doors. Something shifted inside her, like a light switch being turned on. It was like suddenly she had a sixth sense.

She just knew that Miranda could feel it too, even if she did treat her like some sort of field slave. She knew this because And could almost see the energy leaping off of Miranda and reaching out, like an ethereal cord, towards Andy. For a moment she looked around to see if anyone else noticed it, but Emily was just busy glaring at her in disgust.

They'd locked eyes again, and after that, it was like some kind of vacuum sucked in Miranda's energy, and she continued onto her office, leaving Andy feeling almost bereft. In fact, Andy stumbled a little, but covered it by fumbling for her resume. All in all it made Andy feel impotent... but fuck that! "No one puts Baby in a corner..." Andy sniggered at herself in the mirror - she'd always wanted to say that.

Personally, Andy would rather go on being the same, fairly easy-going, optimistic, oblivious, smart-ass, she'd always been. But with all these changes happening she knew she'd be adding a few more adjectives to her personality before all was said and done. Not a comforting thought at all.

Concentrating hard, she watched her eyes go 'online' as she liked to call it, glowing slightly, emphasizing her tri-colored gaze. Her skin felt... tingly. She knew the dark shapes that appeared on her skin were becoming more prominent. She pushed up the sleeve of her blouse and watched as the ink-like pattern moved, gently swirling and feathering across her skin. One finally took shape. Andy frowned, staring at it.
It looks like a... horse... with wings? Hmph! Well that's new.

It solidified on her skin and Andy tried to brush it off, focusing mentally, hoping it would go back to being more ethereal. Shit! It isn't working!

Andy sighed. She'd just have to come up with some story to explain it away. She couldn't drum up the energy to get more freaked out because frankly? Her life had gotten progressively freakier with no sign of it letting up anytime soon. What was one more freaky thing next to a whole freaky list?


***

Miranda pursed her lips in consternation as Roy drove away from Elias Clarke and toward home. What were the chances of those big brown eyes that had been haunting her dreams suddenly showing up at her office? Miranda thought she'd overcome giving into the very human tendency of impetuousness and desirous weakness. But for a moment she couldn't bear the thought that she'd never see her again - even though that was exactly what should happen. It would be a safer proposition all-around.

She rubbed the bridge of her nose in exhaustion. She needed some replenishment. She texted the meal instructions on her phone before putting it away in her purse and laying her head back on the leather-seat. However, her mind got "away" from her - once again.

How would Andrea taste?
She imagined that Andrea would purr like a lioness as she slid her fangs inside her. Would it also make her wet? Would arousal change her delicious scent? Her lips were luscious, pink and full, succulent enough to bite into. Miranda had refrained from sampling until now because she sensed something...off about Andrea. She suspected her second assistant was no mere human, but she didn't have the feel of a vampire or lycanthrope.

Christ, Andrea was in her presence for mere moments and already she was giving into her like a bloody kitten with catnip. Maybe when she fed she could focus on more important things, like the Book, whilst reconsidering why she should fire Andrea at the soonest opportunity. Although judging from the lack of fashion sense the girl had displayed so far, she wouldn't last very long- which would solve her problem.

They car pulled up in front of the townhouse on the Upper East Side. "Be here at no later than 7:15 tomorrow morning," said Miranda as she stepped out. "That's all." She closed the car door and walked up the stoop to let herself in.

Silence greeted her, and she headed towards the kitchen to open a bottle of Blood-Red wine. Her high heels made a rhythmic click as they walked across the polished hard-wood floor. It didn't last long though, for a moment later, Miranda heard the sound of keys rattling in the front door followed by heels heading towards Miranda's way.

"Good evening Master," said Serena, "I've brought the Book and your dry-cleaning as requested."

"Go into the study and get ready," instructed Miranda before she turned to finish her wine. "That's all." She imagined that Serena wouldn't be too pleased if she found out about Miranda's... slight obsession with Andrea. Serena's reactions, however, mattered little. The Were-Tiger was hers, unconditionally, and any problem her Pomme de Sang might have with Andrea was irrelevant.

Miranda tried to keep her hands from shaking as she lifted the wine glass to her lips once again. Sometimes Miranda had to calm herself before her encounters with Serena, otherwise she felt too ravenous and she hated feeling out of control. She took her time heading towards her study, letting it build deliciously. I think I'll have her service me tonight - I'm entirely too keyed up, Miranda thought.

Soft, muted, lighting came through the crack in the door of the study. She pushed the door fully open, looking on in satisfaction. Serena was naked, with her Master's collar around her neck, kneeling beautifully with her head bent in submission and her hair down, cascading across her back.. Miranda approached her slowly, like a large wolf stalking its prey. She could scent Serena's arousal even now.

Hmm...delicious.


***

Serena trembled in anticipation, keeping her eyes lowered, baring her neck in supplication. She thought back to the day she became Miranda's Pomme de Sang. There were very few Were-Tigers in existence, something about the gene being rather... fragile. Then there were the mating practices of Were-Tigers; little more than arranged-marriages/matings by the female's family -also served to keep their numbers very low.

There was no compromise on this. So she ran away from her Pride in Brazil, to work for her greatest love - fashion. It was her second year at Runway, she'd been in thrall of Miranda. Her Power was addictive, her attractiveness--intoxicating. She knew that if she could gain Miranda's favor, the fashion maven would provide the ultimate protection against the hunters her Pride might send after her. A likely scenario, for Serena would have been Queen to her pride, and her escape would be seen as nothing short of the ultimate betrayal.

She was, therefore, not surprised when one of the hunters accosted her as she came through the revolving doors of Elias-Clarke to attend a run-through at James Holt. Miranda had been just behind her, when one she felt something hard hit her stomach. She'd looked down to see herself bleeding. It almost felt surreal, it felt like she was hit with a bat, other people stopped, rushing over to help her, but she couldn't even move. Sounds became muffled, like her ears were stuffed with cotton, her hands clutched her stomach as blood and other things started slowly oozing out.

The hunter started throwing people out of the way to reach her, when she felt hands holding her shoulders, pulling her against a body. She felt Power flicking out, stopping the hunter in its tracks. She saw Nigel move past her towards the hunter and she could almost hear Miranda whispering in her ear, but Serena was quickly losing her awareness, sliding into darkness. Whatever the hunter had hit her with prevented her from healing as most lycanthropes could, particularly one of her lineage, and she was fading fast.

Roy suddenly appeared to take her in his arms before bending, sliding an arm underneath her legs, lifting her effortlessly, to walk towards the Mercedes waiting on the curb. She lifted her head with some effort to look behind her, seeing Nigel fighting with the hunter, before Miranda stepped up behind the hunter. Suddenly, he was lifted off the ground by and invisible force, almost as if he was levitating, and slammed brutally against the far wall. There was no more movement after that. The hunter had simply crumpled and fallen bonelessly into a pool of his own blood.

Miranda stood behind him, mouth stained red, her arm up to her elbow stained red. People stopped and stared, some were screaming, before time suddenly stood still, people freezing in their place, even the air seemed to freeze. Roy placed her in the Mercedes, before striding away towards Miranda. He stooped by the body, threw it over his shoulder and turned back towards the car, clicking a button on the keys to pop the trunk.

"Look at me!" Everyone turned towards Miranda, her eyes glowing with an almost whitish intensity - like stars going nova, it was like she was powering up.

You could feel her energy pulsing outwards. The smell of thunderstorms and rain permeating the air, even though there wasn't a cloud in the sky. People briefly closed their eyes, before stumbling a bit, looking around in confusion, only to realize that Miranda had already started heading for the car and was sliding in the back-seat with Serena. Nigel slid into the passenger seat next to Roy before he peeled away from the curb, and Serena, who had been fighting a wave a darkness etching on her consciousness, finally gave in.

When she woke, she was lying on a bed in Miranda's townhouse, her boss sitting next to her looking down at her. Miranda was wearing a beautiful dark dressing gown, her full lips erased of lipstick pursed, with an inscrutable expression her face. "You've put me in a bit of a bind. You'll have to make a decision or one will be made for you."

Serena looked at her in confusion before it registered, "You will be my Protector? My family will stop at nothing to get me back or harm me."

"Do you know who I am or more importantly what I am? You submit to me and you will be my Servant yes, but I was thinking something more... intimate."

She trailed her finger down between Serena's breasts - which she realized were naked. She swiped that finger through the congealing blood on her stomach before lifting it up to suckle off the blood collected. That action, Miranda's body screamed seduction and also menace. It was intoxicating, even through her pain, Serena could feel her arousal pooling between her legs.

"I know that you are a Master Vampire - the most powerful I've ever met. I know that you expect absolute obedience and perfection. I know that to be in your bed would be a privilege."

She watched Miranda's lips curl, "You will be my Pomme de Sang, my Servant, my Pet. You will have my blood run through your veins as part of a Blood Oath. In return I demand unconditional surrender."

"I am Second in Marmee Noir's Kiss, I am the Master of the City, I am known as Daywalker, I am a Soudre de Sang of Daylight and Fire; Maker of my own vampiric line, I am your Mistress and your Master. And I am so much more. I am also your boss and I expect you to keep that separate from our arrangement. You betray me and your family will be the least of your worries. That's all." Miranda brought her other hand up to her mouth, her eyes began glowing a icy-blow with a tinge of white, her mouth opened and one of her impressive fangs made a small slash along her wrist.

Serena watched the bright blood well up before Miranda brought it down before her mouth. "I accept your gift and I will serve you to the best of my abilities. I give you my life, my loyalty, and my blood, Master of the City, Daywalker - this I submit to you willingly."

Miranda's blood wafted tantalizingly towards Serena's nose, she could feel a growl welling up from her chest, "Then drink my Servant, you now belong to me." As Serena bit into her wrist, lapping up her blood, Miranda's other hand slid around her shoulder, then down to cover a breast, and began plucking at a hard pink-tipped nipple.


***


Which is how she found herself now, naked, trembling with want, desperate arousal - which what this feeding always causes her. Miranda like a hunt closing in strolled around her, scenting her arousal on the air like a scented candle. She stood behind Serena and then Miranda slid her hand into Serena's blonde hair until she cupped the back of her head, then down until she wrapped her hand around several strands.

She suddenly yanked her head back causing Serena to let out a moan because she could also smell Miranda's arousal, her breasts heaving as she panted in excitement. Serena could feel her hips minutely thrust trying to relieve the building ache between her legs, her wetness smearing against her inner-thighs. Her neck was fully bent back, completely exposing her throat. Then she felt a hot tongue swiping her ear, a voice huskily whispered, "You are such a slut aren't you Serena? I bet if I were to swipe my fingers through your cunt right now you would soak them completely." Serena whimpered as she imagined just that.

"Answer me!" Miranda yanked even harder causing Serena to gasp and cry out, "Yes, god yes!"

Miranda began swirling her tongue around her ear, before moving down towards neck to nuzzle her pulse point. She suckled hard, so hard that Serena knew that if she wasn't a lycanthrope she'd be bruised for a week. But it was exquisite, her hips were slowly rocking back and forth as the ache grew from all the sensations Miranda was creating.

Miranda's other arm came around her waist, her hand hot against her stomach, nails digging in just 'this' side of pain, before the hand smoothed down her stomach, fingers worrying her belly-button, before stopping just before her thatch of hair. Her heart felt like it was going to pound out her chest, but it matched the throb that rhythmically pulsed between her legs. Her skin felt too hot, like it was stretched too tight over her bones.

She wanted so badly for Miranda to slide her fingers inside her, she felt hollow, she wanted her to fill her, with her fingers, with her fist. She wanted her to feel how hot and incredibly wet she's made her. She wanted her to ghost her fingertip over her rapidly swelling and pulsating clit. Serena turned her head into Miranda's neck, "Please, I need...," hips jerking.

"No, I need. I need to stop feeling her eyes scorching over my skin. I need to not wonder what her blood smells like. I need to not wonder what she tastes like, I want... her. So tonight... tonight, I'm going to feast on this beautiful body, on your wet cunt, your blood, so I can rid myself of other... wants." With that she slid her fingers over the pulsating clit, into the wet, scorching heat while sliding her fangs with icy hotness into Serena's throat, drinking deep.

Serena groaned loudly as she felt her blood being sucked from her artery and the long fingers stuffing her pussy, stretching her. Her hips swiveled over Miranda's fingers, almost at the edge. The combining sensations were exquisite, pleasure - pain seeping over her skin, in her blood. The answering rhythmic pulsations deep inside her gushing hole and her twitching clit was all the warning she had before the orgasm swept over her, stealing her breath, transferring to Miranda through their connection. She felt Miranda release a deep-throated, growling, moan, before her fangs left her neck, hissing, "Mine."

Somehow, Serena thought that sign of possessiveness was not meant for her.


Continued...

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